


Making Waves

by haztobegood



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Enemies to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Overboard AU, Romantic Comedy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haztobegood/pseuds/haztobegood
Summary: After Louis Tomlinson, an arrogant millionaire, is thrown overboard and loses his memory, a mistreated employee convinces him that they are married. Thrust into an unfamiliar life he cannot remember, Louis must learn to live with his new husband and daughters and adjust to a less extravagant life.Or, the one where Louis can’t remember, Harry needs money, and Niall has a plan. An Overboard AU.





	Making Waves

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the [Popularry Culture Fic Fest](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/PopularryCulture). I want to thank [FallingLikeThis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis) for creating such a unique fic fest and inspiring so many creative fics. Also, thank you so much to my beta [Tasha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hedicine/pseuds/hedicine)!
> 
> As soon as I saw Overboard (2018) I thought it would be a great larry au. When I saw that someone had suggested it as a prompt for this fic fest, I knew I had to write it. Although the prompt was for the 2018 version, I included some references to the original 1987 version as well. I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy reading it!

Louis is having a shit day. He woke up to his annoying younger sister pulling open his curtains to let in the sunshine at 7:30. Why couldn’t Charlotte let him sleep in for once? His day got even worse when the chef made his breakfast. His yolks were overcooked and there were slices of avocado on top of his toast. He hates avocado and the chef should definitely know better. After breakfast, Charlotte forced him to sit in on two boring conference calls. Then to top off his day, he had to cancel his afternoon tee time because it was raining. 

So here he is, lounging in the north sitting room, the largest of several sitting rooms in the estate. Louis is sprawled across the sofa, scrolling through Twitter. He mindlessly fiddles with the zipper pull on his hoodie as he skins his feed. But it’s not enough to cure his boredom. Just as he is considering moving himself to the library for a change of scenery, he hears Charlotte’s Louboutins click as she walks down the marble hallway toward the sitting room. She is primly dressed, as always, with a simple pencil skirt and a cardigan. Her long blonde hair is done up tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Charlotte is scrolling through her phone, no doubt checking her endless calendars and itineraries to make sure everything is orderly. 

Louis and Charlotte were very close when they were younger, despite their age difference. As the only two Tomlinson children, Louis and Lottie would often sneak off after important business dinners to spy on the guests in the sitting rooms. However, as they grew up, they also grew apart. Louis took a gap year and partied, Charlotte went to business school and graduated top of her class. They just have very different outlooks on life. 

Charlotte is is the most serious and business-minded person Louis knows. Even at 22, she would be a much better fit for taking over the company. But their father is quite traditional and insists the first born son must take over the family business. 

“Louis, the Harrison Gala is Friday. It is set to begin at seven. Dinner will be served at nine. It’s the 25th annual gala, so it’s very important that we are there. We are expected to arrive before three. We will be flying out at eight am to make sure we have enough time to be dressed---”

Louis tunes out the rest of his sister’s detailed itinerary. He knows she will go on and on, micromanaging every minute of their trip. 

The Harrison Gala is the most prestigious gathering of European textile companies. It’s where the richest CEOs schmooze with other rich CEOs and pretend to care about whatever charity was chosen for the year, all while trying to make the best deals to get even richer. It’s held at the Harrison’s summer home near the southeast coast every June. 

He glances back down at his phone and refreshes his twitter feed. He’s reading through a thread about young seals getting eels stuck in their noses when Charlotte raises her voice, “Louis, you’re not even listening to me!” 

“Of course I’m not. You talk too much. I heard you, flight leaves at eight am. Got it.” He returns to twitter.

“Whatever, you’re the most immature 29 year old I’ve ever met. You could at least pretend to engage in polite conversation.”

Louis rolls his eyes but remains silent, he’s heard that one before. 

“When are you going to grow up and take responsibility?”

“I never asked for this responsibility!” Louis throws his phone across the room and it hit the floor with a loud noise. Maybe he broke the screen, but he doesn’t really care. 

“It doesn’t matter if you asked for the responsibility or not!” She raises her voice as she continues to get more worked up by the lack of response from Louis. “You have to attend this gala. It’s the most important event of the year. It’s essential for networking and setting up deals. As the heir, Father expects you to represent the company and our family.” 

He loathes moments like this when she takes it upon herself to try to strong-arm Louis into caring about the family business. He has never had an interest in Tomlinson Textiles. Why should he, when there are plenty more capable people around him that take care of it. He does not want to be tethered to a desk and paperwork for endless hours. He’s young and energetic. And he definitely is not ready to settle down and take responsibility for the largest textile manufacturer in Britain. Some day, maybe, but right now, he is in his prime. He is almost thirty, but that doesn’t stop him from hitting up all the hottest clubs, pulling new guys whenever he wants, and enjoying the luxuries that his life has to offer. 

“I don’t see why I have to go, you’re the one that likes stuffy galas.” Louis mutters.

“I don’t understand why Father wants you to inherit Tomlinson Textiles either, but he does. So as long as you’re the heir, you have to go. He’s gone every year but is too sick to go. I’m just going to make sure you don’t totally botch our chances at starting an international branch based in the States. We all know how good you are at networking with businessmen,” she sneers before exiting the sitting room, her heels echoing her path down the hall. Louis sighs and sinks further into the sofa. 

Although Louis dismissed his sister’s nagging about the gala, he is looking forward to heading out to the coast for the weekend. He’s hoping he can get by with making just a quick appearance at the gala and then sneak away to spend the rest of the weekend on his new yacht that he’d bought four months ago on a whim. He’s yet to have a proper holiday aboard the Lonesome Sparrow and this weekend will be the perfect opportunity. 

Louis sits up from the sofa and bellows out “Andrew!” 

A slim older man with grey hair and a tired expression rushes into the room, ready for whatever request Louis has.

“My yacht, is it ready?” 

“Yes, sir.” Andrew nods. “Your yacht will be docked at the harbour and a car service has been arranged for your stay. I’ve also gone ahead and stocked the bar for you. Your bags will be packed tomorrow. You’re all set for the gala, sir.”

“Which car service?”

“Lively Limos, sir. Regency Transportation was already booked for the week.”

“No!” Louis stands abruptly. He advances toward Andrew and points a finger to Andrew’s chest. “Absolutely not. I will not ride in those second rate cars again. Get me Regency or you can drive me yourself.” Louis turns and storms off. Andrew sighs, picks up the phone Louis had previously thrown on the ground, and heads toward his office. It seems Andrew has many more arrangements to make before the weekend.

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry is having a shit year. Actually, to be fair, it’d been a few shit years in a row. It started when he got laid off from his job in the marketing department of a textile company. The company had decided to “consolidate” and shut down the Elsgrove office, laying off dozens of workers and relocating dozens more. He thought things were finally turning around for the better when his husband suggested he should go back to school to get his master’s like he’d always wanted. It was a good time for it, as his husband had a well-paying job to support them and the twins were finally old enough for preschool and wouldn’t be at home all day. So he enrolled in an online master’s of business program.

However, it didn’t take long before everything came crashing down again. Harry discovered his husband was cheating on him. When confronted, his husband just served him with divorce papers. Five years of marriage ended just like that. Then his husband- ex husband- fucked off to America with his new boyfriend, wouldn’t return Harry’s calls, and never sent child support checks. 

His life hadn’t always been so fucked up. Harry had lived in Elsgrove his whole life, except for the four years that he’d moved away for university. After graduating, he moved back with his fiancé in tow. Looking back he can see that his ex-husband was never meant to settle down in a small town, he was too much of a free-spirit. But at the time, young and naive, Harry thought he had life all figured out. As newly-weds, they had bought the first house they found within their thin budget and started their family. At first it was adopting a geriatric cat from the pound. Harry picked him out. His ex had argued that they wouldn’t get their money’s worth if the cat was already close to death, but it just made Harry more convinced to bring the old cat home. Next came the twins. They’d argued about different ways to have children, but ultimately settled for a surrogate. They’d been surprised with two beautiful identical twin girls, Sidney and Sadie. They were the spitting image of Harry’s husband with their sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes. They were the joys of Harry’s life. But after their birth, he noticed his husband had started to work more late nights and have more weekend business trips. He believed his ex when he said that he was just working toward a big promotion, but hindsight is always 20/20. 

When the divorce was finalized in January, his friends really pulled together for him and the girls. Niall, originally from Ireland, moved in next door to Harry three years ago and has been a constant in his life ever since. He helps out with the twins and he even convinced his boss at the Elsgrove Country Club to hire Harry part-time so that he could at least make his mortgage payments. Liam, Harry’s best mate since primary school, is always offering to help out with the more handy repairs that his old house needed. Liam never hesitated to help out when the pipes froze last winter or that time the flooring needed to be replaced after the twins flooded the bathroom. Even though so much of his life has gone wrong, Harry is lucky to have support of his closest friends.

Most of the time, Harry manages to stay positive, despite all that’s gone wrong. It’s just days like today that Harry really gets bogged down with the helpless feeling that his life is miserable and that nothing will ever go his way.

He’d had to stay up late the night before finishing an assignment for his course, so he didn’t get much sleep. The day started off with his alarm sounding, loud and obnoxious. Then the twins refused to get ready for preschool, which left him rushing out the door to make it to work on time. He was immediately greeted with his boss shouting orders to hurry up, as the restaurant was busier than usual. Apparently there had been an important gala the night before and most of the wealthy patrons had decided to have their brunch at the Elsgrove Country Club.

He’d only been at work for an hour and a half and he was already worn out. 

“Harry, table 3 needs to be cleaned.” Nick orders from the other end of the bar. 

“But the bar’s busy. Where’re all the busboys?” 

“Jake went home sick and Danny is on holiday.” 

“Fine.” Harry rounds the bar and began to clear the table. 

Cups and plates stacked high, he heads for the kitchen. He backs into the swinging door, careful not to shift the precariously stacked dishes too much. He’s a few feet from the dishwash station when Mandy, an always-frazzled waitress, brushes past him. The dishes shift with the sudden movement and topple to the ground. Coffee mugs and plates shatter. Silverware clatters. The floor is splattered with various liquids. The swinging doors come to a halt as Harry turns back to Mandy, only to find that she already left the kitchen. She hadn’t even apologized for bumping into him. 

Unfortunately, the crash of plates breaking didn’t escape Nick’s notice. ”Harry, you need to be more careful, you can’t be throwing dishes around, mate. Next time we’ll have to dock your pay for the damages. Get this cleaned up and get back to the bar, we’re swamped.” 

Harry mumbles insults to vent his frustration as he sweeps up the broken shards. Niall walks into the kitchen as Harry is emptying his dustpan into the bin. Niall is the apprentice groundskeeper for the club’s golf course. Since Harry started working at the club’s bar, Niall has taken to taking his breaks in the kitchen. 

“Tough luck, mate.” Niall grabs a clean glass and fills it with tap water.

“You’re telling me,” Harry switches his broom for a mop to clean up the remaining spilt drinks and chunks of food.

“You wanna watch the game tonight?” Niall asked as Harry loads the unbroken dishes in the dishwasher. 

“Wish I could, but I’ve an essay due tomorrow morning. I’m hoping I can get the twins to bed early tonight. They’ve been trying to stay up late by asking me to tell them bedtime stories. You know I just can’t say no to them. And then it’s impossible to get them up in the mornings.”

“Want me to help you get them to bed so you can write?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ve got it. I’ve got to get back out there or Nick will have my head.” harry pushes through the swinging door back into the bar. It takes a while to calm down from his bussing disaster, but eventually he settles back into the rush of taking orders and mixing drinks, counting down the minutes until his shift would finally be over.

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis wakes up around two pm, head pounding and stomach swimming from a hangover. He’d made his appearance at the gala and even stayed an hour after dinner. When the stiff collars and dry champagne grew to be unbearable, he snuck off to his yacht to party into the morning. He grabs his phone after getting dressed.

“Andrew, I’m leaving. Bring the car around front immediately.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. He grabs his gym bag and heads out. He’s off to meet his best friend Zayn for brunch. He steps out onto the deck of his yacht, walks down the landing to the street where Andrew is waiting with a black Range Rover. Andrew holds the door for him as he gets in, then shuts the door. They drive off through the town. Louis is headed out to the Elsgrove Country Club, located about five miles outside of the city. The club gives temporary membership to all the guests of the Harrisons each year during their gala weekend as the family is a substantial financial support to the club. The country club includes a clubhouse with restaurant and bar, a heated outdoor swimming pool, tennis courts, a sprawling eighteen-hole golf course, and a private section of beach complete with sailboats to rent. He always enjoys the benefits of the Elsgrove Country Club while visiting with the Harrisons. 

After Andrew drops him off at the entrance, a hostess greets him, takes his coat and bag for the coat check, and shows him to a table near a window with a view of the beach. A server walks over and fills his glass with water. As he’s taking his first sip, Zayn enters the dining room. Louis stands to hug Zayn. It’s been a few months since he’d seen his friend, as Zayn had been away to America for business. 

“Good afternoon, sir. May I get you anything to drink?”

“Coffee, please” Zayn says.

“Black tea, milk, no sugar.” Louis picks up the menu from the table, dismissing the server without another glance.

“I’ll be right back with those.” The server turns away.

Louis reads through the menu options. He’d really like a fry up, up it seems he’d been handed the lunch menu featuring lists of sandwiches, salads, and fish entrees. He’s craving some greasy food to counteract the hangover still looming over him. The server returns with a coffee carafe and a single serve teapot, a small jar of milk, and a bowl of sugar.

“Here you are sirs. Are you both ready to place your order?”

Zayn orders the beetroot salad. Then the server turns to Louis who says, “I’d like the full breakfast.”

“Sorry, sir. We stop serving brunch at two pm.”

“It’s only 2:45, can’t you just whip up some eggs in the back?”

“No sir, we’re only serving lunch now. I apologize for the incon-”

“Can I speak to your manager?” Louis cuts him off. 

“Yes sir, right away.” The server scurries off into the kitchen, panicked look on his face. Zayn sits back in his chair. He’s been friends with Louis long enough to know not to interfere when he has his mind set on something. A few moments later the manager approaches Louis’ table.

“Good afternoon, sir. My name is Nick. I’m the manager. How can I help you today?”

“Hello Nick, I’m Louis Tomlinson.” Louis pauses, allowing his name to sink in. “I came to your clubhouse for a full breakfast, but your server is telling me it’s not possible to order it. It’s not like the ingredients mysteriously vanish when the clock strikes two. I know you have all the ingredients. Go and tell your cooks that I want a proper fry up.”

The manager, showing no emotion on his face, nods curtly, “I see. While our policy is typically to stop serving breakfast at two, we’ll make an exception this time. I’ll see what I can do.”

“It always amazes me what you can get away with just because of your name.” Zayn says after the manager has left.

“What’s the point in being a Tomlinson if I don’t use it to my advantage?” Louis smiles smugly. While they wait for their food, the conversation turns to current gossip with their extended friend group. It’s great to catch up with Zayn after so long. 

Twenty minutes later, Nick returns with a heaping plate of fried foods. He sets the plate in front of Louis. “Is there anything else I can get either of you?” Nick asks.

“No, that’s good enough.” Louis digs in.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s another long day behind the bar for Harry. He is only five hours in to a grueling twelve hour shift. His coworker, Jenny, had gotten a call that her son broke his arm. Sympathizing with her plight as a single parent, Harry offered to cover the rest of her shift. He’d called up Liam to make sure someone would watch the twins until he could make it home. Just as he finishes pouring a cosmo, Harry glances up and sees the hostess leading a new guest into the dining room.

It’s not unusual for new guests to eat at the Elsgrove Country Club, especially during the Harrisons’ annual gala, as it is one of the nicer eating establishments in the area. What is unusual about the new guest is that he is young and gorgeous. Most club members are wealthy gentlemen of retirement age and their housewives. This new guest is near Harry’s age. The man is stunning, even though he looks possibly hungover. The man removes his dark sunglasses as he enters the dining room. He is casually dressed in a navy sports jacket with the white dress shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his tanned and tattooed chest. 

As the man takes his seat and picks up a menu Harry catches himself staring. He quickly shakes his head at his distraction and gets back to making drinks. Minutes later when Harry allows himself another glance at the gorgeous man, he’s surprised to see another unbelievably handsome man has joined him across the table. Unexplainable disappointment bubbles to the surface of Harry’s mind at the idea that the gorgeous stranger is taken, but Harry shakes that thought off too. 

Harry feels unsettled by his sudden attraction to the unobtainable stranger. Although it’s been about six months since his divorce was finalized, he’d had no desire to try dating again. Love hadn’t worked out so well for him the first time around. And besides, it’s not like he has tons of free time to devote to dating. Even if he did, it’s not like that model of a stranger is going to sleep with him when he takes him home to a house littered with children’s toys. With that depressing thought, Harry picks up a towel and begins to polish some glasses. 

He first hears the gossip a few hours later. When Harry enters the kitchen to restock the garnish tray. Nick, the club manager, is ranting about a horrible customer to a small group of loitering servers. Normally Harry minds his own business in an attempt to avoid unnecessary drama that Nick has a habit of stirring up. So he continues slicing lemon wedges as Nick dramatically recounts his experience. However, the name Tomlinson piques Harry’s interest, so he listens in as Nick continues “Then, then after the whole fiasco, and agreeing to serve him breakfast after two pm, he had the audacity to complain that eggs were too peppery!” 

“You should have just walked away.” David, one of the servers says.

“Oh but I couldn’t because he’s _Louis Tomlinson_.” Nick emphasizes.

“But the Tomlinsons have done enough damage to Elsgrove. Their name shouldn’t get them special privileges.” Harry argues as he slices through another lemon. He is still bitter about losing his job two years ago, and knows a few others at the club feel the same.

“True, but the Tomlinsons are still one of the richest in the country and upsetting the son could have dire consequences and cause the country club to lose business.” Nick counters. “I couldn’t risk him shutting us down over a plate of eggs. And besides, he’s fit as fuck.”

“Fit or not, if he’s really that conceited, he wouldn’t be worth the effort.” Harry picks up his garnish tray and returns to the bar.

Harry begins wiping down the bar and glances out at the pool area. He spots the same man, Louis, emerging from the poolside changing rooms in a pair of blue swim trunks. He approaches a chair with a towel claiming it and moves the stuff onto the ground before claiming the chair as his own. He then impatiently waves over a server to place another drink order. Harry shakes his head at the patently rude behavior and continues to wipe down the bar top.

✧ ✧ ✧

The following day Harry is chatting with Niall while he is restocking the bar before the lunch rush when Nick bursts through the kitchen door.

“Harry! Just the man I’m looking for. I need you to caddy today.”

“But I’m not a caddy? Why can’t you have someone that’s actually a caddy do it?”

“Tom sprained his ankle last night and all the other caddies are booked so I need you to take his appointment. It shouldn’t be too bad, it’s just nine holes.”

Seeing no way out of taking his boss’s request to caddy for the day, he agrees. He heads to the front desk to check the schedule. An L. W. Tomlinson is booked for an 11:00 am tee time. Harry groans. He hopes it’s not the same Tomlinson from the previous day, but with his luck, it is bound to be. 

The schedule shows that Tomlinson had requested a cart and a set of rental clubs, so Harry signs out a set of clubs and grabs the keys to one of the carts. He has everything ready to go and stands behind the front desk, waiting for his appointment to arrive. Harry anxiously glances at his watch as the minutes tick by.

At five minutes past the hour, a car finally pulls up to the entrance. A few incoherent shouts are heard and then, “Andrew, tell my sister that I just need a few hours of golf before I am forced to sit in those fucking dinner meetings all night. I’ll call when I need the car.” A car door slams before the automatic sliding doors part to reveal Louis Tomlinson. 

Harry puts on his best customer service smile and hopes for the best. Maybe if he starts out friendly, the man won’t be nearly as intolerable as all the servers had claimed yesterday.

“Good morning, welcome to Elsgrove Country Club. How may I help you today?”

“I have a tee time scheduled for 11:00, Tomlinson.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry extends his hand in greeting, “I’m Harry and I’ll be your caddy for the morning.”

The man ignores Harry’s outstretched hand while blatantly checking Harry out. “Good, at least there’ll be something to look at on the course. My name’s Louis, babe.” Louis turns toward the exit. Struck by Louis’ forwardness, Harry continues to stare. Louis glances back over his shoulder, “Well, are we gonna golf today or are you just gonna stand there?” 

Harry recovers, hauling the hefty golf clubs over his shoulder before following Louis out to the parked carts.

“We’re cart #14 today, Louis. Let me get it started and then we can take off to the first hole.” Harry walks down the aisle between the parked carts and locates the one labeled #14 before placing the clubs in the back. A twist of the key starts it and he drives up beside Louis. 

Louis is rolling up the cuffs on his shirt, exposing some tattoos smattered across his toned forearms. He looks up at Harry. “I’ll be driving today, Harold.” 

“It’s just Harry.” he corrects as scoots across the bench seat to the passenger side. Louis ignores him as climbs in.

Harry attempts to make small talk as they drive to the first hole. It’s instantly clear that Louis is not one for chit chat, so Harry decides to keep quiet. Things begin to rapidly decline around the second hole when the drink cart comes around and Louis slams his first drink, and orders two more. Harry mentions that it’s club policy not to drink and drive the carts and offers to take over, but Louis argues that he paid a lot of money to be able to drive his own cart and doesn’t care about any of the club policies. He refuses to hand over the keys.

They argue the whole time on the course. Between Louis’ drunken thoughts and overt attempts at flirting with him, Harry has just about had enough. 

At hole six, Louis is distracted by a group of fraternity brothers passing by on their carts. Louis shouts, heckling the men to get their attention and then swiftly turns and drops his pants, mooning them. Harry is astonished by the childish behavior, baffled that a grown man, and prominent public figure no less, would behave like that in public. As Louis pulls up his trousers Harry catches a glimpse of another tattoo. He’s pretty certain that the heir to Tomlinson Textiles has a cartoon penguin tattooed on his arse. 

It’s late into the afternoon by the time they drive down the course to the ninth hole. Harry is so thankful it’s the last one. He couldn’t imagine continuing for a full 18 holes with the very drunk and belligerent Louis Tomlinson. 

Louis grabs the driver and walks out to tee off. He turns and asks “Harold, what’s my score?”

Harry tallies the numbers on the scorecard “62.”

“And what was par?”

“34.” 

Louis throws his driver to the ground and pouts. “I’m horrible.”

“It’s not that bad a score, I’ve seen worse.” Harry tries to console, but that just sets Louis off on a drunken tirade. He pulls the bag of clubs from the back of the cart, snaps the putter handle in half, throwing both pieces to the ground. Before Harry can stop him, he jumps into the golf cart and floors it up the hill toward the clubhouse, leaving Harry standing at the ninth hole with all the golf clubs.

Harry ends up walking up the hill back to the clubhouse while carrying the full set of clubs over his shoulder. And he isn’t even wearing trainers! He’d worn his favorite tan loafers, as he’d expected to be inside behind the bar for the afternoon, not trekking through the golf course chasing after a crazy drunk. 

As he reaches the top of the hill he sees that Louis had crashed the golf cart into the fence as he parked it. He’s damaged a section of the wrought iron fence and left a large dent along the front of the cart. To top it all off, Louis left the club without tipping Harry. Harry also missed out on a full day of collecting tips from drunk old men at the bar, which further cuts into his normal pay. The club deducts his paycheck for the damaged cart and fence since it is the caddies’ responsibility to park the carts in the lot. The damage isn’t a lot but the amount charged is enough to make a huge difference. He was counting on his full paycheck to make his mortgage payment that is due next week.

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry finishes up another day of work. It hadn’t been quite as horrible as the previous afternoon. Luckily the caddies weren’t short staffed and Harry was able to stay behind the bar. He says goodbye to a few of his coworkers and hands off the nightshift to Jenny before he heads out for the night. He has to get some groceries to stock the refrigerator for the coming week but knowing that his next paycheck will be short, he has to be careful with what groceries he buys. He can’t afford frivolous snacks when he barely has enough to cover the staples.

He exits the grocery store with his orange reusable grocery bag slung over his shoulder. As he walks down the pavement back to his car, he notices two people in an argument by the docks. An older gentleman is trying to diffuse the situation as the second, shorter man gesticulates broadly and raises his voice further. Harry immediately recognizes the boisterous man. It’s Louis Tomlinson. Fury burns in Harry’s eyes at the sight of the ungrateful, rude man. The older gentleman walks off, and Louis turns to walk down the dock. Harry doesn’t think before his feet are leading him in the same direction. He is going to confront Louis about the charges for the damage he caused and hopefully get him to repay his debt. 

“Tomlinson!” Harry shouts to get his attention. Louis turns, startled by the shout.

“Yes?” Louis keeps walking as Harry catches up to him. 

“You owe me money for yesterday.” Harry states.

Louis, having reached his yacht, stops and turns. “Do I?”

Harry sets his groceries on the dock begins speaking his mind. His voice raises as he enumerates the ways Louis has wronged him. “You fucking crashed the cart and damaged a fence and the club made me pay for it since you left so abruptly. And you didn’t even tip me for the hours that I followed you around on that fucking course. I have two little girls at home and a mortgage due next week, I couldn’t afford for your stupidity to be taken out of my paycheck. And-” 

“I don’t see how your mortgage is any of my business.” Louis interrupts, looking bored.

“And on top of it all, your family’s business laid me off and is the reason I’m forced to work at the club in the first place!” 

Louis looks like he’s thinking over what Harry has said, and then says, “Wow, that’s pretty unfortunate, but I still don’t see how that’s any of my concern. It’s my father’s business.” Louis turns to board his yacht. Harry reaches out and grabs his arm.

“Do not touch me!” Louis shakes his hand off then pushes his chest. He takes a step back to regain his balance, but Harry is too close to the edge of the dock. There’s no solid ground beneath his foot and he flails his arms in a vain attempt to prevent the inevitable. He tumbles into the cold harbour, accidentally taking in a mouthful of water. He comes up coughing and sputtering. He has to tread water to keep his head above the surface. 

He turns toward the dock just in time to watch as Louis picks up groceries.

“No, no, no please...” 

Louis tosses the bag into the water beside Harry. He’s able to catch the strap of his reusable bag before it sinks too far into the water, but the apples are already floating away from him. He swims to the edge of the dock where a rickety old ladder is luckily available to assist his climb out of the water. He drags his wet groceries out as well. So much for having enough food for the week. 

His clothes are drenched and sticking to him. Louis has boarded his yacht and is nowhere in sight.

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis boards the yacht in a terrible mood. Not only had he argued with Andrew about delaying his return home by a week, he’d then been confronted by the caddy from the golf course who had the audacity to demand money from him.

He heads up to the top deck, where there is a lounge with tons of pillows and seating. He drops himself heavily onto a loveseat, flinging his legs over the arm of the loveseat and sighs. There’s still some residual anger simmering below the surface. He’d released most of the anger as he’d tossed the caddy’s bag over the dock, but now that he’s alone, the anger subsides to exhaustion. His phone begins to ring. 

“Hello.” Louis answers the call.

“Louis, are you headed back yet?” Charlotte enquires in her business voice. 

“Of course not, I made Andrew arrange for my holiday to last another week.”

“You shouldn’t have done that Louis. Father is really sick. It’s important that you come home. He’s been asking to see you. He also had his lawyers over the other night and there’s some paperwork.”

“It’s not the first time he’s been sick. He’ll be fine for another week. There’s no point in me rushing home and changing all of my plans for him. And you could just have the lawyers email me the paperwork. I might look at them”

“No, Louis you’re being heartless and irresponsible- “ 

“Fine, I’ll come home. But I’m not flying back, I’ll take the yacht.” Louis hangs up on Charlotte and throws his phone across the room. It misses the chair he’d been aiming at and lands on the stone table next to it with a loud bang.

“Andrew!” 

Andrew hurries up into the lounge. “Yes sir?” 

“I’ve been summoned. I need to return home. Inform the captain.” 

“Right away sir.” Andrew hurries off toward the captain’s galley 

Upset and anger blend with a mixture of anxiety and tiredness so Louis closes his eyes and falls into a fitful nap stretched out over the loveseat.

Louis wakes a while later, probably a few hours later, as the sun has begun to set and his stomach is protesting a missed meal. He heads down to his room and shouts for Andrew to bring his dinner, knowing his assistant is likely sitting within earshot of him. 

Louis settles in, watching Netflix on his laptop while he waits for his meal. Twenty minutes later, his dinner finally arrives. “Andrew, I asked for my dinner to be brought promptly, It is unacceptable that it took this long. Make sure the chef is quicker next time.” 

“Sorry sir.” Andrew apologizes and leaves after Louis sends him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He unpauses the show and digs into his meal.

After three episodes and a few drinks, Louis is ready for bed. He changes out of his clothes, pulls on a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. As he climbs into bed, he realizes that he can’t find his phone. It takes him a bit, in his inebriated state, to recall that he’d thrown his phone while in the lounge on the top deck. 

He’s a bit unsteady, both from the rocking of the yacht and the swaying of his drunkenness, but he manages to walk up to the lounge. He takes a moment to glance up at the sky. It’s a clear night and he can see thousands of stars shining above. There’s a heavy breeze whipping around the top deck and causing large waves now that the yacht has left the calmer waters of the harbour. 

Louis locates his phone right where he’d left it. He grabs the phone and discovers that this time, tossing his phone in anger had actually resulted in shattering the glass screen. Just his luck. He’ll need Andrew to purchase another as soon as they return. He pockets the phone and begins the trek back to his bed. As he walks unsteadily toward the stairs, a large gust of wind catches him off guard and Louis loses his footing. He catches himself on the railing and holds onto it to right himself. Before he is stable, the yacht hits a large wave. Suddenly the boat deck isn’t underneath him. He’s tossed over the railing. He clings onto the metal bar with both hand and tries to hoist himself back up. 

But the water splashed over the railing makes the metal cold and slippery, and his grip fails. He falls into the water. Disoriented and cold, he struggles against the waves and tries to stay above water. Another wave comes and tossing him against the side of the yacht. He hits his head hard. A sharp pain pierces his mind and everything goes black.

✧ ✧ ✧

There is a faint beeping and distant chatter. It’s a struggle to open his eyes at first. When he finally does, he wishes he hadn’t. Despite the dim lights overhead, his head is pounding and it feels like there’s a vice squeezing against his temples. All of his limbs feel heavy.

As he takes stock of himself, he discovers that he’s wearing a scratchy hospital gown and there is an IV in his left hand. It takes him longer than necessary to realize that he is in a hospital. He tries to remember how he got to the hospital, or even why he is at a hospital in the first place. Nothing comes to mind.

He’s very disoriented and can’t follow the train of any of his thoughts. The harder he tries to focus on his situation, the more confused and upset he becomes. As he fights to remember anything, he realizes just how much he can’t remember. Anxiety washes over him and his heart rate skyrockets, indicated by the quickening pace of the beeping and an alarm tone sounding. 

A nurse rushes into the room. “Sir, I need you to calm down.” She begins pushing buttons on the monitor. The alarm quiets. “Your heart rate is very high. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?”

“Why am I here?” He grunts out between panting breaths. His chest feels so tight and he’s close to hyperventilating.

A old man in a white coat enters the room and approaches the side of the bed with a serious look on his face. “Sir, I’m Dr. Chapman. You’re in the hospital.”

“I know where I am! I asked, why am I here?” Louis yells. He sits up in the hospital bed and begins to pull at the IV in his hand.

“Sir please, try to remain calm. There was an accident. You were brought into the hospital two nights ago. You were hypothermic and exhausted. Please try to calm down and we will try to answer any questions you have to the best of our abilities.”

“Alright.” He lays back into the bed and crosses his arms. His chest is still heaving but he’s settled down some.

“First,” Dr. Chapman continues, “We have a few questions for you.” He grabs his pen and a small notepad from his pocket. “We’ll start with an easy one. What is your name?”

“My name is…” and he can’t think. His headache become more intense from all the commotion and stress of the past few minutes. He tries to remember, but how does someone find something they’ve never had to recall before. Once again, the monitor’s alarm sounds as his heart rate rises. “I don’t know. Why don’t I know my name? What have you done to me?” He’s panicking, emotions colliding into a full anxiety attack. He can hear the nurse, she’s saying something to him and rubbing his arm, but he can’t understand her words. He feels like he’s underwater and his chest is heaving, but he’s so short of breath. The deep voice of the doctor cuts through and he hears an order given, but doesn’t know what it means. The nurse picks up his left hand and gently attaches a syringe to the line on the IV. She depresses the plunger slowly, and as the medicine flows through the line, his vision blurs and his eyelids fall and everything goes quiet.

✧ ✧ ✧

Charlotte’s driver rounds the front of the vehicle to open the passenger door. He offers his hand to assist her as she steps out of the Range Rover. The Southbrook Community Hospital is one storey brick building with a faded red awning stretched over the entrance. Automatic sliding doors screech as they part and reveal a dated reception desk. An older woman with tightly permed curls greets Charlotte from behind the desk. “Hello miss, can I help you?”

“Hello, I am Charlotte Tomlinson. I was called by a Dr. Chapman. I’m supposed to meet him at noon.”

“Oh yes, I’ll let him know you’ve arrived. Please, have a seat in the waiting area.” The receptionist waves to the waiting area, a collection of wood chairs with worn mauve fabric stretched over the seats. There’s an old television hung in the corner of the room. Subtitles scroll and the sound is muted while a soap opera plays across the staticky display. 

Charlotte doesn’t wait long before a nurse calls her back. She follows the nurse to an office in the back corner of the hospital. A large desk occupies most of the small space and the shelves are cluttered with textbooks and manila folders. A small window looks out into the parking lot. A kind older gentleman in a dress shirt and tie stands from the desk and offers a handshake in greeting. “Hello, I’m Dr. David Chapman. So glad you could make the drive down on such short notice.”

“Nice to meet you,” she returns the handshake. “I’m Charlotte Tomlinson. I was so relieved you’d called. We’ve been distraught since we learned that my brother had disappeared.”

“Well, then I won’t keep you waiting much longer. Before we go see him, I do want to note that he’d woken up three days ago but was struggling with his memory. We won’t know the full extent of his amnesia without further testing, but so far it seems to be pretty complete.”

“Oh, that’s terrible. Is it permanent?” Charlotte covers her mouth, shocked at the news. 

“In some cases, amnesia caused by a traumatic event can be reversible. However, his is one of the more severe cases I’ve seen. If you’d like, after we see him I’d be happy to explain some options and give you referrals to some excellent neuro departments that could help your brother recover. Unfortunately, our little community hospital isn’t quite equipped to take on a case like his, but we’ve been trying our best.

Charlotte takes a moment for the information to sink in. Her brother can’t remember anything and doesn’t know who he is. Suddenly a plan forms in her mind. It’s diabolical, but it just might work. “Alright, Dr. Chapman, I’d like to see my brother now.”

The doctor leads the way down the hall to the patient wing. They stop in front of the third door on the right and Charlotte enters. 

“Who are you?” Louis asks from the hospital bed.

“Sorry, wrong room.” Charlotte quickly backs out of her brother’s room. “I’m sorry doctor, but t-that’s not my b-brother.” She stutters as a false tear rolls down her cheek.

“Oh dear,” the doctor places his hand comfortingly on her forearm and leads her back out to the waiting room. “I apologize for the mix up, Miss Tomlinson. Our John Doe just seemed to match the description of your brother, so we were certain it was him. I do hope you find him soon.”

“I do too, thank you for your kindness, Doctor. I must be going now.” Charlotte rushes through the automatic doors and to her waiting car. As she settles into the back seat for the long drive back to the estate, she breathes a sigh of relief and begins to plot how she will take over as the heir to Tomlinson Textiles.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Niall, I just don’t see how I’m going to survive this month. The refrigerator is on its last legs, the girls need new clothes again, and the mortgage is going to kill me.” Harry complains over his first pint. Harry is meeting up with Niall and Liam at the local pub after a long week. Liam texted that he is running late, so they’ve started drinking without him.

The local pub is one of three in their village. Harry adores The Clover for it’s old world charm and the kind owner. Niall likes it because it’s an Irish pub. The boys are seated at their usual booth, tucked into the back corner of the bar. 

“You know Liam will help with the fridge if you ask and I’m sure you’ll make your payments, you always find a way.”

Right then Liam slides into the booth with his own pint. “What’s up?”

“Harry’s fridge is on the fritz again. He could use your manly repairman skills.” Niall slaps Liam on the back. 

“Tough luck, mate.” Liam takes a sip of his beer. “I have time Sunday afternoon. I can pop over and take a look at it.”

“Thanks, Li. You should stay for dinner, at least get something for all your work.”

“You know you don’t owe me anything Harry.”

“I know, but I feel so bad. I just can’t seem to get ahead. Every time I think I have enough saved up, all hell breaks loose,” Harry counters.

“You should’ve just picked up someone while you’re working the bar. You know all those old guys are loaded. You’d make a great sugar baby.” Niall cackles.

“Oh! That reminds me, I have to tell you about Sunday on the golf course,” Harry recounts the epic adventure of his first time being a caddy and the subsequent argument on the dock. 

By their third round, their conversation has trickled down and Harry is about ready to head home. Niall and Liam are discussing the latest Marvel movie trailer, but Harry hasn’t seen it yet. He doesn’t have much time for movies while trying to keep up with two four year olds. Harry’s fingertip idly traces the familiar scratches in the tabletop and stares off toward the bar. An old telly in the corner is playing a sports recap programme. The two hosts are discussing the prospects of the local clubs and which players they think should be traded. 

The programme ends and the local nightly news intro begins to flash across the screen. An anchorwoman in a dark purple suit sits at the newsdesk. A bright red ‘Breaking News’ banner appears at the bottom of the screen and a picture of a bedraggled man appears in the cutout to the left of the woman. There’s something familiar about the man in the photo. Harry squints. That’s it, it’s Louis Tomlinson! Despite the black eye, cut lip, and hospital gown, Harry recognizes his sharp cheekbones and slight posture.

“It’s him!” Harry blurts out.

“What?” Niall and Liam ask. Harry rushes over to the telly, reaches up, and turns the volume up so he can hear the anchorwoman.

“-discovered wandering along the shore Tuesday afternoon. He has trauma-induced amnesia and does not recall his identity or how he got there. He also had no identification on his person. If you know the identity of this man, please contact Southbrook Community Hospital immediately.” As the anchorwoman lists out the hospital’s contact information, Harry turns back to the booth, where Niall and Liam are staring at him like he’s lost his mind.

“That’s him, that’s Louis Tomlinson! I wonder why his family haven’t shown up yet, they must have noticed he’s missing by now.” Harry glances back at the telly. The hospital contact information fades and a new image appears for the next segment. Harry recognizes the image as the Tomlinson Textiles logo.

“On a related note,” the anchorwoman continues, “Tomlinson Textiles heir, Louis Tomlinson, is still missing. The search continues after Charlotte Tomlinson, Louis’ sister, confirmed that the John Doe at Southbrook Community Hospital was not her brother. The family first reported the 29 year old missing three days ago when it was discovered that he had fallen overboard from his yacht on Monday night. The search and rescue will continue into the weekend.”

“Oh my god, she lied.” Harry whispers. 

“What’d’ya mean?” Niall asks.

“I can’t believe it,” Harry mutters in disbelief. “She must’ve lied to the hospital about her brother. That’s definitely him.”

“I can see why she’d not want to take him back based on your experiences with him.” Liam says.

“What should I do?” Harry asks. “Should I call the hospital and tell them?”

“What if…” Niall smirks, mischievous glint in his eyes as he thinks through his plan. “What if you use this to your advantage.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, you could make this work in your favor. He can’t remember who he is, so you could just make up a story. You could claim he’s your husband, then make him get a job. He’d make money for you so you could earn back what he cost you the other day.”

“No that’s horrible, Niall!” Harry exclaims.

“Where do you even come up with these ideas, mate?” Liam says.

“No, honestly, it’s a great idea. You said he’s not a nice person, and for you to think someone is “not nice” they must be the spawn of Satan. So he deserves to work a little, like karma. It’ll be perfect. With an extra paycheck coming in you could even take less hours at the club and have more time for your coursework.”

“But Niall, what if he remembers who he is?” 

“He probably won’t remember for a long time. I had a cousin in Clifden that’d hit his head in a motorcycle accident. It took three years for his memory to return. And besides, you’d only have to keep it up for a little while, long enough to make back the money he lost ya.”

“I don’t like this,” Liam states, then drains the last of his beer. 

“Come on Harry. Nothing’ll go wrong.” Niall pleads, widening his eyes and pouting like the saddest of puppies.

Harry quickly weighs the pros and cons in his mind. After a few moments, he finally makes a decision. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Life is just unbearable. He’s been stuck in this fucking tiny hospital room for over a week. He doesn’t know his name and doesn’t know anything about himself really. All he knows, is that this hospital is a dump. The telly in his room only has twelve channels, two of which are too staticky to watch. The hospital gown they make him wear is a cheap cotton blend and scratches unpleasantly against his bare skin. Their food is absolutely abhorrent. Canned vegetables, little cups of lime gelatin, and bananas at every meal. They won’t let him order anything special, saying they can’t offer any other foods. He can’t see why the hospital won’t give him special treatment. He’s begged them to move him to their VIP suite multiple times, but they keep refusing to, saying that they don’t have one. He thinks they’re lying.

The nurses force him to walk laps around the patient floor every day. He argues that he’s not a dog that needs to be taken for a walk, but the nurses refuse to back down. During his walks, he’s noticed how dated the building is. The chairs at the end of the hall are sun-faded. The tiles are a muted grey and the grout between is coated with a layer of black grime that even the strongest cleaners can’t permeate. 

The worst part of being in hospital is that they keep calling him John Doe. John is such a common name. He’s sure whatever his actual name is it’s more memorable that John. 

It’s been a miserable four days. He wants to leave. But they won’t discharge him without an identity. They refuse to discharge him with no money, nowhere to go, and no one to help with his recovery. So he’s stuck here, pacing the hallways, flipping through channels, and eating lime gelatin.

✧ ✧ ✧

Niall stops in early Saturday morning with a mischievous smirk on his face and a large manila envelope tucked under his arm. He’d somehow managed to come up with a fake ID, a marriage license, and some convincingly photoshopped family portraits overnight. When Harry questions how he did it, Niall just responds that he has some useful connections.

Niall flips through the stack of documents and pulls out the driving license, handing it to Harry. “I picked the name Louis Styles.” he points to the ID. “Still spelled like Louis, but pronounced Lewis. I’d like to think that Tomlinson would be super vain about the pronunciation of his name, and I didn’t want anyone to think it was too similar and catch on.” Niall clarifies. 

Niall offers to watch the girls so that he can stay behind and fill Harry’s picture frames with the new photoshopped images. Niall is so eager to see his mastermind plan in action that he practically pushes Harry out the door. 

Harry enters Southbrook Community Hospital through a screeching automatic door. He squints as his eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the reception area. 

“Hello sir. Can I help you?” The lady behind the reception desk greets him. Her gold name badge says ‘Peggy’.

“Um, yes. I think my husband is here? Louis Styles? I saw his picture on the news.” Harry’s voice shakes with nerves and he trips over the unfamiliar name as he tells the first lie. He hopes the receptionist mistakes the tremor in his voice as distress from missing a spouse. 

“Do you have his identification?” Peggy asks.

“Yes, I’ve got his license here.” Harry hands over the counterfeit card. 

“Alright,” she nods and hands the card back. “Have a seat. Dr. Chapman will be right with you.” 

Harry sits on the edge of a bench, too anxious to relax. He’s the only one in the small waiting room this early in the morning. It’s not long before a doctor in a white coat comes through the door. “Mr. Styles.” the doctor extends his hand in greeting. “I’m Dr. Chapman. Peggy told me that you’re the husband of our resident John Doe.” 

“Yep, that’s me.” Harry offers a weak smile.

“Let’s head over to my office for a moment and then you can take him home. I’m sure you’re just anxious to have him back” Harry catches the underlying sarcasm in the doctor’s tone. The doctor leads Harry down a hallway to a small office. Harry takes a seat across the desk.

“I’m so thankful you’ve found my Louis,” Harry is careful to pronounce the name with an ‘s’ according to Niall’s instruction. “I’ve been going crazy trying to find him this past week.” 

“Do you know how he might’ve ended up on the beach?” Dr. Chapman asks.

“He just wanders off sometimes. He’s a recovering alcoholic and sometimes the stress just gets to be too much, so he leaves.” Harry pulls from the false background Niall had conceived the night prior. “When can I see him?” Harry asks eagerly, deflecting from any further questions. 

“He should be awake by now, we can go see him now.” As they walk down the hall, Dr. Chapman describes Louis’ condition. He’d been found Tuesday morning wandering a beach, shoeless and barely able to stand on his own. He was dehydrated and suffering from the early stages of hypothermia and had a nasty concussion. The doctor details a bit about trauma-induced amnesia, but it’s clear to Harry that Dr. Chapman is no expert in the matter. 

They arrive at room 108 and Dr. Chapman raps his knuckles against the partially closed door before pushing it open. “Good morning! I have someone to see you.”

“I don’t want any visitors.” Louis sneers as Harry appears from behind Dr. Chapman.

“Hi.” He gives an awkward short wave of his hand in greeting, not knowing what else to say. Louis is sitting up in the bed, dressed in a green hospital gown, and still sporting a dark purple shiner. It shocks Harry that he looks so small and out-of-place, but he shakes the thought away and tries to talk to him again. 

“Hi Louis, baby, I’m so happy to see you!” 

“Who are you? Who’s Louis?”

“You’re Louis. This is Harry.” Dr. Chapman introduces. “I know you can’t remember, but Harry here, is your husband.”

“I’m so happy to see you, my little honey bunny!” Louis cringes at the nickname. Harry walks closer and pulls up a rickety folding chair next to the bed. 

“You’ve been gone for so many days, darling. I was getting really worried.” Harry reaches for Louis’ hand but he pulls it away. Harry leans back in the chair and glances at Dr. Chapman. 

“Louis, Harry came to take you home. I know you’ve been itching to get discharged so I should have the paperwork ready by this afternoon.” 

“I’m not married,” Louis protests. 

“It’s alright if you can’t remember everything yet, sugarplum,” Harry comforts. “Dr. Chapman did tell me that you’d hit your head pretty hard. I’ll help you out. We met at university and we’ve been married for five years.”

“This man is not my husband! There’s no way I would forget being married to someone like him!” Louis sneers.

“I am your husband. We love each other very much and I know you like the back of my hand.” Harry decides to list a bunch of made-up traits to convince Louis of their connection. It’s not like he’ll remember if they’re true. “Let’s see...You love peas but can’t stand broccoli. You sing ABBA in the shower. And…” Harry pretends to think for a second before pointing out the one truth he knows Louis can’t deny, “And you have a penguin tattooed on your arse.”

“No way! You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about a tattoo like that?”

Louis jumps out of bed, hikes up the hem of the hospital gown, and pulls down the elastic band of his pants, mooning Dr. Chapman in the process. He twists and arches his back awkwardly to see that, yes, there is a cartoon penguin tattooed on his arse cheek. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Louis says dejectedly. 

Later, Harry and Louis are sitting next to each other in Dr. Chapman’s office as they go over Louis’ rehabilitation. Dr. Chapman says that at this point in Louis’ recovery, there isn’t much to be done other than to continue with his life unless they want to see a specialist. He reminds them both that there’s a small chance his memories might suddenly come back, in parts or in whole, but no one knows. 

Dr. Chapman hands over a bag of Louis’ personal items. It contains only the clothes he was wearing and a cell phone, unrepairable with both a cracked screen and water damage. Lastly, Louis fill out his discharge papers, signing his unfamiliar signature at the bottom of the page and then they are free to go home.

✧ ✧ ✧

During the twenty minute drive from Southbrook Community Hospital to Elsgrove, Louis begins to wonder what his life is like. He doesn’t have any memory to go off of, but he hopes that his husband and him live in a large house on the coast. Maybe they even have a dog.

Louis gets out of the car as soon as Harry parks his car under the oak tree. Louis takes in the scene around him. There is an semi-detached brick house with a bright red door. It has definitely seen better days. The house needs a new roof. The paint on the porch is peeling. The grass is in need of a trim. 

“We live here? I’m poor?” Louis asks incredulously. He’s stunned. It’s so much worse than he was imagining. Harry ignores Louis’ rudeness.

He follows Harry up the two steps to the front door, wood creaking beneath their weight. Harry unlocks the door and waves Louis inside with a flourish. “This is home.” 

The entryway is small but welcoming. There are so many pairs of shoes scattered across the floor, haphazardly kicked off and left. There are as many men’s shoes as there are small pink and glittery ones. So there are kids here, Louis thinks. And then he hears them. He can hear the high pitched carefree giggles of young children coming from the next room. He adds his own shoes to the collection and follows the noise into the lounge. 

Two small girls dressed in shimmery princess dresses talk animatedly as one serves imaginary tea from a purple plastic teapot. And sitting next to them, is a man sitting on the floor, sipping imaginary tea from a tiny plastic tea cup. 

“Welcome back, mate,” the man waves.

“Hi!” The two girls shout at Louis. The one in the blue Cinderella dress runs over to him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward their tea party. “D’you want some tea?” She asks.

“I...uh,” Louis looks around, trying to find an excuse to escape having to play pretend. He has so many questions for Harry right now. It’s so overwhelming to learn that not only is he married, but that he probably has two children. There must be some mistake. Louis feels like he’s living through a nightmare. 

“Hi, since you don’t remember, I’m Niall,” the man sticks out his hand. “You should join us. The twins would be upset if you didn’t.”

“Louis. Oh you know that already.” Louis feels so awkward and out-of-place. He takes a seat on the floor across from Niall. “So who are you two?” 

“They’re your daughters. This one’s Sadie,” Niall nods to the girl in the blue dress. “And this is Sidney.” He nods to girl in the yellow Belle dress. 

“Oh.”

“We’re twins!” Sadie shouts at him.

“And we’re four!” Sidney yells, holding up three fingers just inches from Louis’ face.

“I see.” Louis leans back away from the small hand.

Luckily, Harry comes into the room at that moment and Louis jumps up. He doesn’t want to be subjected to playtime any longer than necessary. “Harry, I need to talk with you.” 

They enter the kitchen. Harry pushes a pile of laundry across the table to make some room and motions for Louis to have a seat. 

“Would you like some tea, honey bear?” Harry begins to fill the electric kettle with water.

Louis rolls his eyes at the endearment. “Sure.”

“So, you wanted to talk. What’s up, babe?” Harry pops his hip and leans against the counter as he waits for the water to boil.

“It’s just…I’m...” Louis doesn’t know where to begin. “I think there’s been a mistake. I don’t belong here. I don’t feel like I’m a dad or a husband. None of this feels familiar. This can’t be my life!”

Harry brings over two mugs of tea and settles into the chair next to Louis. He can sense Louis is on the verge of a panic attack, so he tries to calm him. “Lou, You woke up this morning not remembering your own name. No one is expecting you to remember everything right away. We’ll take it one day at a time. Now take a few deep breaths, drink some tea, and I can answer any questions that you have.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry is irate after seeing Louis’ reaction to his home. He’d hoped that Louis’ memory loss would have triggered a change in his personality. But even with no memory of how privileged he previously was, Louis still managed to be inconsiderate and rude.

After showing Louis inside and leaving him to meet Niall and the twins on his own, Harry goes upstairs to mentally cool off. _Why did he let Niall talk him into this harebrained plan in the first place?_ He forgot to consider that following through with Niall’s plan would require him to put up with Louis. Harry has no idea how he planned on faking a relationship with someone that was so inherently conceited. 

He just has to remind himself that an extra help with chores and an additional paycheck was worth overlooking any personality flaws. 

Harry opens his wardrobe to change shirts, only to find that his clothes have been pushed to one side. The other side has an assortment of unfamiliar, slightly-wrinkled shirts. His sock drawer has also been emptied into the hamper and filled with a collection of unfamiliar joggers. It must be Niall’s doing. 

Niall had been very thorough the previous night while devising their plan, but Harry didn’t think he’d be quite this thorough. They’d come up with a solid backstory, including everything from how Harry and Louis met during uni to Louis’ alcoholism that caused him to get lost for days and wind up wandering along the beach. They’d even planned it out that Louis could get a job with Liam so that Harry could take less hours at the country club. 

For Harry, the planning had stopped there. He hadn’t considered any of the logistics of bringing a stranger into his house. But it seems Niall had him covered. From the counterfeit documents and photos, to the assortment of clothing that’s been added to his closet, it seems that Niall was very busy. 

He descends the stairs, noticing that Niall must have rehung some of the family portraits that he’d taken down after the divorce. However, his ex-husband’s face has been seamlessly replaced with Louis’. Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Niall must not have slept last night to have accomplished so much in less than 24 hours.

He steps into the lounge, hoping to talk with Niall, but is besieged by a frazzled Louis’ pushing him toward the kitchen and asking to talk. It’s a new side of Louis that he hasn’t seen before. He appears so confused and anxious as he sits, drinking his tea and trying to digest all the information Harry had thrown his way. Although Harry was upset with Louis just moments ago, he can’t help but empathize with him in his current state. That’s how Harry finds himself comforting the man he loathes and talking him down from a panic attack. 

Later, after Harry puts the girls down for the night, he joins Louis in the lounge. Dinner had been uneventful, Harry had cooked spaghetti and the girls had been on their best behavior. Niall had left once the dishes were done. Louis had been very quiet throughout the evening. Harry chalked it up to the emotional stress and left him be. They watch some Netflix in silence until Harry decides it’s time for bed. 

That’s when he realizes that there’s only one bed. He panics and texts Niall.

 **To Niall:** Where’s Louis supposed to sleep????  
**From Niall:** Your bed.  
**To Niall:** I can’t have him sleep IN MY BED!  
**From Niall:** Why not  
**To Niall:** I’ll make him sleep on the couch  
**From Niall:** he’s your “husband” sure you don’t want to make the most of it? 🍆😉

Harry locks his screen and tosses the phone onto the couch with a sigh. The movement startles Louis, who looks over to him curiously. 

“Time for bed. Our room’s upstairs. There’s an en suite bathroom. There’s also a bathroom off the kitchen next to the girls’ room.” Harry points out as he realizes he hadn’t given Louis a tour of the house when he’d arrived.

They get ready for bed in silence, moving awkwardly around each other as they brush their teeth and strip out of their clothes, keeping their boxers on. They crawl under the sheets and Harry lays on his back, staring at the ceiling. It feels as if they are both trying to stay as far apart as possible.

Harry wakes the following morning feeling hot and sweaty. There’s an unfamiliar weight on his chest and something tickling his neck. He reaches up to scratch at the tickle, only to smack his hand into Louis’ temple, startling him awake. “Sorry!” 

Louis just groans in response and pulls his arm back off Harry’s chest. He rolls onto his back. Suddenly Harry feels quite cold. They somehow ended up wrapped up in each other over the course of the night. Harry is embarrassed to realize his cock is hard. Harry escapes into the bathroom before either can acknowledge the situation.

✧ ✧ ✧

Sunday morning is for chores at the Styles’ house. Harry teaches Louis to do the laundry, a never-ending process with two young girls. Once Louis has the first load in the wash, Harry hands Louis a bucket of cleaning supplies and directs him to the bathroom. Louis complains and asks for a less-gross chore, but Harry insists. Harry takes his time vacuuming the house, enjoying his reprieve from his least favourite chores.

Liam comes over that afternoon to repair the refrigerator. He lets himself in and kicks off his shoes before hauling his oversized tool box into the kitchen.

“Hi Louis, How’re you? I’m Liam.” Liam introduces himself.

“Fine.” Louis grumbles, continuing to fold yet another mountain of clean laundry. 

“Talkative today, I see. Is Harry around?”

“Nope. He ran to the store with the girls.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’ll just be here trying to fix the refrigerator. Don’t mind me.” He sets down his tool box and begins pulling out an assortment of tools, arranging them in a neat line on the floor. Louis watches as Liam slides the refrigerator out of the space between the cupboards and the wall so that he can access the back. His back muscles strain at the task and Louis catches himself staring. So what if he’s married, he can still appreciate the view. 

Louis finishes folding the laundry and puts the folded clothing away. He returns to the kitchen, fixing up tea for Liam and himself and then sits at the table chating with Liam as he works. It turns out they have a bit in common and Louis realizes he actually enjoys talking with him.

Just as Liam pushes the repaired refrigerator back into its place, the front door is thrown open and a cacophony of noise precedes Sadie and Sidney as the girls rush into the kitchen.

“Liam! Liam! Liam!” They both chant.

“Hey girls!” Liam stoops down to wrap both girls in a hug. 

Harry follows carrying four reusable grocery bags over his shoulder. “Hey Liam.”

Harry sets the bags on the table and begins putting away the groceries. Liam informs Harry that, while he managed to get the refrigerator to stop making loud clanking noises and get the freezer to actually function, the refrigerator should probably be replaced soon. 

Harry sighs. “Thanks for fixing it Liam. I really appreciate it. Can you stay for dinner? I’ve made my lasagna.”

“No problem, H. Of course I’ll stay for dinner. No one can turn down your lasagna.” 

A little while later, Harry calls everyone to dinner. They all gather around the table to enjoy the lasagna that Harry cooked. Liam wasn’t lying, it’s one of the most delicious dishes Louis’ ever eaten. After dinner, Liam excuses himself. “Thanks so much for dinner H. It was delicious. I have to be up early though so I should head home.” He hugs the girls goodbye before he slides on his shoes. He opens the front door and calls over his shoulder. “See you at work tomorrow Louis!” And then the door shuts.

“Work?” Louis asks, confused.

“Oh, I thought he’d have reminded you. Liam is your boss. You work in construction and he’s the site foreman. You’re building a huge mansion on the edge of town. Liam should be here at 6 am to drive out the site with you. ”

“6 am? Can’t I sleep in?” Louis whines.

“Oh come on, it’s not that early.” Harry teases. “Anyway, I’ve got to get the girls to bed so they aren’t crabby at preschool tomorrow. Can you finish up the dishes?”

Louis grumbles but starts stacking plates by the sink. Over the past day, he’s come to realize that complaining to Harry about chores will not get him out of doing them, so he might as well get it over with. 

He waits for the hot water to come through the faucet before plugging the drain. He upends the bottle of dish soap and begins drizzling the blue liquid all around into the water, satisfied as bubbles begin to form. He caps the bottle and grabs a sponge. More and more bubbles are building up in the sink, way more than he needs. Louis starts to panic. This doesn’t look right. He may have added too much soap. So he starts scooping bubbles into the empty side of the sink so that he has room to wash the dishes. When the ratio of water to bubbles in the sink has reached a manageable level, Louis turns off the tap. 

Without the water running, Louis can clearly hear Harry’s low voice as he tells his daughters a bedtime story. He describes princesses and woodland creatures, a huge castle, and a dark forest. At first, Louis guesses that Harry is reading from a book, but as the tale gets more and more creative, Louis realizes that Harry is making up the story as he goes, complete with different voices for each character. 

He listens to Harry describing the princesses running away from the castle to play in the forest while he washes the dishes. He’s scrubbing at a pan when Harry’s story takes an unexpected turn. The princesses meet a purple glittery alien in the forest. The girls giggle at the new character’s high-pitched nasally voice. Louis scoffs. Why can’t he be like a normal parent and just read them “Goodnight Moon”? As the princesses and alien become friends, the twins have quieted down. Harry says that they can finish the story tomorrow night if the girls go to sleep. He kisses them on the foreheads and leaves their room, pulling the door partly closed behind him.

Louis is still bent over the sink, vigorously scrubbing the lasagna pan and intensely ignoring Harry as he comes into the kitchen. 

Harry touches Louis’ side lightly as he steps around him in the narrow kitchen.He shivers at the unexpected casual touch.

“Looks like you used too much soap, there, Lou.” Harry smirks as he catches a glimpse of the sink.

“Whatever.” Louis shakes his head, and gets back to scrubbing.

Monday morning starts with a shrill alarm startling Louis awake at 5:30. He hits the snooze button, and is shoved out of bed when it goes off 15 minutes later by a very sleepy Harry reminding him not to make Liam late. He reluctantly rolls out of bed and pulls on a pair of worn jeans and the work boots that he finds in the wardrobe. He grabs a banana for breakfast and is out the door as soon as he sees Liam pull up in front of the house. 

Harry has the lunch shift at the country club, working from ten until three. He’ll also have to write another essay in the afternoon. He gets a few more hours of sleep before he wakes. He drops the girls off at preschool and heads out to the country club. 

Meanwhile, Liam and Louis arrive at the construction site. Liam, being a talkative morning person, had described the build to Louis on the drive out. Louis only half-listened. He was not a morning person. The house was going to be a 1,400 square metre mansion, complete with an industrial-sized kitchen, a pool house, and detached six car garage. Liam introduces Louis to the four other the men working at the site, Eugene, Sully, Bobby, and Jorge. Liam had called the four of them up the night before and explained Harry and Louis’ situation and they had agreed to play along.

“Hey man, sucks that you can’t remember nothing.” Jorge says.

“Hopefully you can remember how to do your job, like riding a bike, yeah. Muscle memory.” Bobby jabs Louis in the side playfully with a sharp elbow.

“Just don’t slow us down, we’re already a week behind on the build because of the rain two weeks ago.” Eugene huffs. As the oldest and most cynical crew member, he was a bit reluctant to play along.

“I’ll try my best.” Louis picks up a cordless drill and waves it as he talks.

“Umm,” Liam grabs the drill from Louis before he accidentally hurts himself. “Let’s start by reviewing some safety. First, here’s your hard hat. Wear this at all times on site.”

And so the day continues. Liam shows Louis how to use a few of the basic tools. He even gets to try the table saw, but his cut turns out a little wonky. Liam tries to hold back a laugh as he suggests that Louis practice on scraps before trying to cut anything else. Their short lunch break is taken sitting around the tailgate of Liam’s truck, munching on turkey sandwiches and spicy crisps that Bobby’s wife had packed for them. By the afternoon, Louis is finding his work sort of enjoyable, he’s at least not completely miserable. And the guys are nice enough, even if they do make fun of his ineptitude. Liam drops him off at home at 4pm, reminding him to be ready at six again the following morning. 

The week rolls on. Every day he’s up out the door by six. Liam trains him to use more tools and he becomes more useful around the site. The work is difficult and he gets a few calluses on his hands, which the guys all endlessly rib him about. 

Thursday night, Louis returns home absolutely knackered. All he wants is for a cool shower and a good meal. Louis was uncomfortably sweaty and sunburned. A heat wave had rolled in overnight and spiked the temperatures over 30 degrees.

“Honey, I’m home!” Louis snickers to himself at his cliche entrance. He can’t believe that this is actually his life. He doesn’t feel like he’d be the kind of person to be settled down and working a manual labor job, but here he his. 

Louis doesn’t get a response, but he knows Harry should be home since the car is parked out front. Louis finds him in the kitchen, surrounded by a mountain of printouts and textbooks. Harry is rapidly typing on his laptop and doesn’t look up.

“Hey.” Louis tries again, softer this time.

Harry startles, jumping in his seat and knocking one of the stacks of papers to the floor. “Fuck, sorry, didn’t see you come in.” He leans down to gather the papers. “Oh, Lou, could you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Can you pick up the girls from preschool by five, then make dinner? There’s a thawed chicken in the fridge.”

“But I just got home from work. I’m tired and need a shower.”

“Well, I just got home from work too, and I’ve got to finish this assignment by tonight.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I do that.” Louis says apprehensively. Picking up the girls shouldn’t be too hard, but cooking is another story. Louis didn’t do much, or any, cooking. He knew that the last time he’d tried to cook a meal, he’d started a microwave on fire. 

As he’s laughing at the memory of using a fire extinguisher to put out the microwave, he realizes that he just remembered something from before the accident and gasps. That it is probably the first time he’s had a memory of something pre-accident. The realization excites him, but he can’t dwell on it too long. He knows from his time in the hospital that attempting to force memories only leads to a headache and disappointment. 

He returns home with the girls. He’d decided on the drive to the preschool that it’d be best to keep his new memory a secret from Harry. He didn’t want to get Harry’s hopes up that more memories would come back. A part of him was also worried that Harry might be disappointed that his first memory wasn’t about them. They’d been married for five years, surely one of the good memories of him and Harry would’ve been more important to recall than Louis’ failed attempt at cooking.

“Remember, girls, Papa is busy tonight with his homework. You two can go say hi to him, but then you have to go play quietly in your room until dinner.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The girls say in unison as they run off toward the front door. 

By the time he walks into the kitchen, the girls are already in their room and trying to decide what to play. He doesn’t want to disturb Harry, who looks like he’s very focused on his assignment at the moment, so he pulls a cookbook off one of the shelves to find a recipe for the chicken. Maybe if he has directions to follow it won’t be a complete disaster. 

He finds one for baked chicken that doesn’t look too complex. He pulls out the few spices and other ingredients that the recipe calls for, preheats the oven, and finds a ceramic pan that a chicken should will fit in. He pulls the chicken out of the fridge and uses the kitchen shears to cut away the plastic wrapper. 

“Eww!” Louis exclaims as he pulls back the plastic to expose the raw chicken. 

“Everything alright over there?” Harry looks up over his computer screen.

“Is chicken supposed to look like that? It’s all slimy and pink.” 

“Well, it is raw.” Harry chuckles.

Louis grabs the chicken by one of the leg bones, trying to touch it as little as possible as he moves it into the pan.

“You forgot to spray the pan.” Harry comments.

“Huh?” Louis stares at him.

“You have to use the non-stick spray.” Harry points to a bunch of cans and bottles on the counter by the stove. “The one with the red cover. If you don’t spray it, the pan will never come clean.”

Louis washes his hands, then grabs the spray. He shakes the can thoroughly like spray paint but is disappointed when it doesn’t make the same noise. Not wanting to touch the chicken again, he sprays the pan around the chicken liberally, and then uses a spoon to push the chicken to the side before spraying the middle of the pan.

With that done, Louis returns to his recipe. 

It says to rinse the bird, but he’d already set it in the pan, and he really doesn’t want to touch it any more than he has to. So he moves on to step number two: sprinkle salt and pepper into the cavity. It doesn’t say how much. Oh well, he’ll just guess. He pinches the leg bone and turns the chicken up. He almost gags at the sight of the cavity. It’s dark pink and he can see the chicken’s ribcage. Without looking, he shakes some salt and pepper inside and then drops the leg.

Next, the recipe says to truss the bird, but he doesn’t have a clue what that means, so he skips that step. Step four is to season the chicken. He finds some measuring spoons and follows the recipe as he adds more salt and pepper, some paprika, and chili powder to the outside of the chicken. Then he pops it in the oven and sets a timer for half an hour.

He’s just about to sit down to wait it out when he realises he didn’t make any sides. He digs around in the cupboard and finds a box of instant mashed potatoes and a can of green beans. Both have simple directions for preparation on the side of the packaging, so Louis thinks he should be able to handle that. He sets to work, mixing up the potato powder and water on the stove top. With that heating, Louis grabs a can opener for the green beans and adds them to a saucepan. They look a little bland, so Louis decides to add a bit of the spices from the chicken recipe to the beans. 

Suddenly, the potatoes are boiling over, foam running over the side of the pan onto the burner and sizzling loudly. “Ahhh!” Louis exclaims! He reaches for the handle of the pan and moves it off the burner, but a bit of the water splashes onto his finger and it burns. “Fuck!” He moves over to the sink to run his finger under cool water.

“Are you okay?” Harry rushes over to him. “Let me see.” He inspects Louis finger and sees that it’s just a bit pink, he’ll be okay. 

“I am terrible at cooking!” Louis sighs dejectedly. He goes over to the stove and turns the burner off and begins cleaning up the boiled over potatoes. 

“It’s not that bad. The chicken smells good at least. How about I finish up the sides and you can set the table?” Louis gladly hands off the remaining cooking duties and goes about stacking Harry’s piles of papers to make room for the plates and silverware.

When the timer goes off, Harry pulls Louis’ roast chicken out of the oven. He inspects it skeptically before bringing it to the table. The legs and wings weren’t trussed so all the tips are a bit charred and the breast looks a bit dry. Other than that it looks like a decent roast chicken. He cuts into the meat. The meat on the outside feels super dry as he slices it, but as he cuts deeper, the chicken is still raw. 

“Louis, what temperature did you cook this at?”

“Well the recipe said 190 degrees for an hour and a half, but it was almost dinnertime so I thought I could set it to 230 and cook it for a shorter time. Why? What’s wrong?”

“The chicken isn’t cooked all the way through. It’s still raw in the middle.”

“Oh.”

They end up ordering pizza.

As Louis cleans up the remnants of his disastrous cooking attempt, Harry ushers the girls off to bed for the night. On their way through the kitchen Sadie says goodnight to him and Sidney even gives him a hug around his thighs before trotting off to their room.

Louis strains his ears to listen for tonight’s story. Over the past few nights, Louis had come to love the whimsical tales that Harry tells the twins every night. On Tuesday night the princesses helped the purple alien repair its ship and return to its home planet. Last night was a story about a hedgehog that had gotten lost, but befriended a frog that helped him get home. Harry spent a lot of time describing the environment and the characters and did it with so much detail that Louis had no problem picturing his imaginary scenes in his mind. He would never admit it out loud, but he couldn’t wait to see what tonight’s story would be about.

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry was stressed. He’d forgot to turn in an assignment last night and the professor hadn’t returned his email yet. Of course, his computer wasn’t holding a charge. He would need to start saving for a new laptop. And then there was Louis.

It’s been more than three weeks since he brought Louis home from the hospital. He could really tell the difference it made to have an extra set of hands around the house. Louis had taken over the cleaning, the laundry, and most of the cooking (after Harry had given him some basic lessons) and was doing great with the girls. He’d even started putting them to bed when Harry was busy with his coursework. It was starting to feel natural to have Louis around the house.

This was a problem. Harry wasn’t supposed to like having Louis around. Louis was just supposed to be an extra paycheck to make up for damages Harry had had to cover. When he’d agreed to Niall’s plan, he never thought it would be like this. It was easier at first to remember how horrible a person Louis was. But in the past three weeks he has learned to be more considerate and his old personality has been overshadowed by a softer, kinder temperament. 

Harry has also caught himself a few times watching Louis. Usually it’s as he follows Louis up the stairs to the bedroom at night. Sometimes it’s as he dances while he cooks, swinging his hips when he thinks no one is watching. And just this morning, Harry had been admiring the way Louis’ eyelashes fell against his cheek as he slept, until he realized that watching Louis sleep was probably creepy.

He’s trying to ignore the way Louis’ seems to fit so seamlessly into his life. And it’s not working.

 **To Niall:** Are you at home?  
**From Niall:** Yep.  
**To Niall:** I’m coming over

Harry barges into Niall’s house and throws himself across the couch. Niall is sitting in a recliner, Playing Fifa. He pauses the game and sets down the controller.

“What’s so urgent that you didn’t even knock?”

“It’s Louis.” Harry whines before dropping his face into the throw pillow. Harry is filled with turmoil. He’s been feeling off about the Louis situation for a few days, ever since the first night he heard Louis trying to tell an elaborate bedtime story to the twins. That’s when he first realized how much of a difference having Louis around had truly made. After that night, guilt about all the lies that have piled up started to creep up on him. The guilt was festering and it ballooned every time Louis did something unexpected for Harry or the girls. The guilt only added to the mountain of stress that was already weighing Harry down.

“Did he do something?”

“No... he’s just… He’s not what I was expecting.” Harry turns over so he can see Niall as they talk.

“How do you mean?”

“When I went along with this, I thought it’d be a week or two before we’d be found out. Or he’d remember. I’d get the money he owed me and then he’d be off. But he still doesn’t remember. His family has stopped looking for him. And he’s…” Harry feels heat rise to his cheeks.

“He’s what?”

“He just fits.” Harry turns his face back into the pillow, embarrassed by the admission.

“Oh.” Niall is speechless. 

“Yeah, ‘Oh.’ So, what do I do?” Harry looks to Niall anxiously. 

“Well, I guess you could just keep playing along. He might never remember. Or, you could come clean and admit everything. It’s your choice.”

✧ ✧ ✧

It is turning up to be one of the hottest summers on record. The first heat wave at the end of June was only the beginning. The passing of July is marked by stretches of days above 30 degrees. It made working outdoors miserable.

The crew is at a large old estate in the next village over. They’ve been hired to build a new pool house in the back garden. All the guys are sitting around Liam’s truck, taking fifteen minutes to cool off in the shade and refuel. Bobby and Sully are making fun of Louis, telling stories of his most hilarious disasters from his first month on the crew. Everyone’s in stitches laughing about the time Louis dropped an entire box of nails and picked every one up by hand before the guys showed him the magnet when the owner of the house rounds the corner and starts yelling.

“What are you fools doing? I hired you to build a pool house. I’m not paying for you to sit around all day, get back to work!” 

“I’ll handle this,” Liam mutters under his breath. He goes over to the owner to try to calm them down. 

Sully grumbles “I can't stand these fucking ungrateful millionaires that never worked a day in their life.” 

Louis and the crew reluctantly get back to work. 

Louis has been working for over a month now. While he disliked working in the heat or pouring rain, most of the time he found his job to be very rewarding. They’d finished the first house just last week and had broken ground on the neighbouring lot on Monday. Louis had finally gained the trust of the crew and the skills needed to hold his own on the job site. He didn’t need to ask Bobby how to turn the table saw on or to have Sully double check all of his measurements before cutting. And all the manual labor had the added benefit of defining his muscles and tanning his skin. 

He’s definitely flaunted his new abs and stronger arms, trying to lure Harry into bed. But for some reason, Harry always turned him down. It’s been over a month without sex, probably longer, since Louis can’t remember. He’s frustrated. It is driving Louis insane. Every time he has tried to seduce his husband, he was reminded that Harry was too busy with his coursework or too tired because of the twins. 

On Saturday, Louis is home alone. Harry took the twins to the park for a playdate with some other kids from their preschool. Louis opted to stay back, hoping to finish up the laundry before the workweek. He throws a load of towels into the wash before he heads upstairs to collect the dirty laundry from his and Harry’s room. 

It’s been a busy week and their room is a mess. They have a hamper, but nine times out of ten the clothing ends up scattered on the floor instead. He starts piling it up and when he bends over, he can see one lone sock lost under the bed. He gets down on his knees and crawls over to the edge of the bed. His arm is just a bit too short, so he lays down and scoots closer. Gotcha! He also notices a black box beneath the bed and it piques his curiosity. He reaches his arm back under the bed and pulls it out. He sits up cross legged on the floor and examines the box. It’s black opaque plastic, about the size of a shoebox. There’s a thin layer of dust across the top. He’s hoping for some photos or a keepsake collection that might spark his memory. He doesn’t find either of those. Inside the box is a small collection of sex toys and lube. 

Louis’ cock twitches. He slams the lid back on the box, shocked by his immediate reaction. Would it be weird to use Harry’s toys without him? He pushes the box back to its spot beneath the bed and gathers the laundry. As he sorts the clothes into piles by color like Harry taught him, he can’t stop picturing the contents of the box. He’s distracted by the possibilities. He thinks it over for a moment before he has a realization that the toys are under their bed and if they’ve been married for as long as Harry had said, those are probably their shared toys. Louis’d have nothing to feel bad about if he’d used them to enjoy his afternoon. Louis heads back upstairs.

The box is right where he’d left it so he slides back beneath the bed to pull it out. He examines the contents and chooses an average sized dildo vibrator and the bottle of lube. He takes his time arranging the pillows and himself on the bed to be comfortable. He’s in no rush, knowing that the house will be empty most of the afternoon. 

He starts by teasing his nipples, tracing the hardening buds with his fingertips and pinching to feel a spark of pain. His cock is hardening between his legs, semi hard from the just anticipation of what’s to come. It gives another twitch as he pinches his left nipple harder. He reaches down with his right hand to drag his dry fingertips up the length of his cock. He circles the head with his fingertip and shivers at the sensation. He adds a bit of lube to his hand and gives himself a few tight pulls. When he lets go, his hardened cock lays across his stomach, smearing the first few drops of precome on his skin. He reaches for more lube, this time to coat his fingers. He drags a silky slick finger down around his balls, across his perineum, to his hole. He uses the slickness to ease his way as he presses in. He doesn’t waste time teasing himself, he’s worked up enough as it is. He inserts the first finger to the knuckle in one swift movement, toes curling at the slight burn. He thrusts down on his finger a few times, adjusting to the feeling. He imagines that it’s Harry’s finger as he rocks his hips. He’s impatient and he quickly works himself up to three fingers. 

Finally ready, he withdraws his fingers. He coats the dildo with lube and lines it up. He presses against his hole gently, savoring the feeling of being entered. After a moment to adjust to the fullness, he swivels his hips around, sending a jolt of pleasure through him each time it brushes against his prostate. He gives the dildo a few cursory thrusts before finally reaching for the dial. He clicks it on to the first setting. A low whine escapes his throat as a low vibration fills him. He takes a moment to appreciate the new sensation. He knows it’s not enough to get him off, but it’s a start. He continues slowly thrusting the toy as the vibrations add a new level to the motion. 

A few minutes later, as he’s grown antsy with need, he turns the dial up a few notches. He expects a stronger vibration, but is surprised by a change in the pattern as well. He thrusts the toy in to the hilt to feel the full effects. A long, strong vibration is followed by a short burst with a brief pause between the two. Louis’ eyes roll back in his head and he adjusts the angle of the toy to hit his prostate. His body tenses each time the pattern repeats and it draws him closer and closer to the edge. He arches his back and grasps the sheets with his empty hand, overcome with the intensity of the orgasm washing over him. “Haaarry!” He moans as he comes untouched, spurting white across his stomach and chest. 

He withdraws the toy, too sensitive after such an intense orgasm. He turns off the vibrations and sets it on the bed. “Holy shit.” He is overwhelmed. That was one of the most amazing orgasms he’s ever had. 

After a moment to collect himself, when he feels in control of his limbs again, Louis cleans up the toy and puts the box back in its place. One glance at the bed and Louis realizes he should probably change out the sheets. Back to doing the laundry then.

✧ ✧ ✧

On Tuesday night, Louis calls Harry and says he’s working overtime. He explains that there had been a mix-up at the lumberyard and the wrong shipment of building materials would set them back a few days, so the crew had decided to work late to stay on schedule. Louis sounds tired on the phone, so Harry gives him so encouragement and offers to pick up the girls from preschool.

The girls are happy to see him and excitedly pack up their bags before racing each other to the car.

“Girls, walk and watch where you’re going.” Harry scolds as they run across the car park. 

“Sorry Papa.” Sidney hangs her head. She’d always hated being scolded. 

“There weren’t any cars though.” Sadie talks back.

“But there could be, you need to be careful. Now buckle up.”

Harry starts the car, a top 40 radio station blasts a new pop hit and the girls dance along in their seats.

When they burst through the door, they drop their bags and pull off their shoes, eager to get inside. Sadie is the first to get hers off and she runs through the house, “Daddy!” When she sees that Louis is not in the kitchen, as he usually is, she comes back to the lounge and asks Harry, “Where’s Louis? I want to show him what I made at school.” looking up at him with big wide eyes.

Harry’s heart clenches at yet another reminder of how far ingrained Louis has become. He pushes down a wave a guilt. “He’s got to work late tonight. Do you two want to help me make dinner for him tonight?” 

Harry prepares a quick stovetop stroganoff, and while it simmers, he gets the girls to help him with the biscuits. He lets Sadie pop open the can of store-bought biscuits with a spoon and Sidney helps him arrange the rounds of dough onto the baking sheet. Then the girls set the table. By the time dinner is ready at quarter past six, Louis has just walked in the door. 

They sit around the table, Louis and Harry listening as each of the girls take their turn telling about their day. It was crafts day at preschool and Sadie and Sidney are both excited to show Louis what they made, but Harry reminds them that they need to finish eating before they can leave the table.

After the dinner dishes have been cleared, Louis joins Harry and the girls in the lounge. He takes a seat in the loveseat and is bombarded with the twins both trying to climb onto his lap at the same time. Sadie and Sidney both brought their school bags with them. After a bit of arranging, he manages to get the girls to sit, one of each side of him. A smile overtakes Harry’s face as he watches Louis listen to the girls as they talk over one another. “Let’s see what you’ve got for me then.” Louis prompts.

They both unzip their bags and rustle around, searching for whatever they’ve made. Sadie finds her’s first and holds it dramatically in her outstretched palms. It’s a macaroni necklace. Pieces of uncooked pasta, dyed in a rainbow of colors, are threaded through bright blue yarn. 

“Oh thank you!” Louis says as he pulls it over his head.

“Now you can match Papa! I made him the same thing last crafts day.” Sadie explains.

“That’s very nice.” Louis gives her a hug, rocking her back and forth to make her giggle.

“And what’ve you got, Sidney?” She hands him a folded up sheet of paper.

Harry watches as he carefully unfolds it. From where he sits in the recliner, Harry can’t see the front of the image, but the wrinkles in the paper gives away that it’s probably a finger painting.

“Oh,” Louis gasps. Harry watches his reaction, noticing that his eyes are possibly starting to tear up. Louis turns the paper around, showing it to Harry. There are four stick people drawn in finger paint. Their little stick arms are all touching, holding hands. The two larger stick figures are in the middle with the two shorter stick figures on either side. Each of the stick figures is labeled with crayon, in the large scrawl of a four year old. 

Sidney points at the figure she’d labeled “Daddy”. “That’s you!” 

“Thank you Sidney. I really like it.” He hugs Sidney tightly, careful not to crease the painting.

Harry doesn’t want to break up the touching moment, but he realizes the time. The girls had already been up for a half hour past their bedtime. If he has any hope at the peaceful morning, they should get to bed soon. “You made some very nice presents for Louis. Let’s hang the picture up on the fridge and then it’s bedtime.”

“But Papa, I don’t wanna go to bed yet.” Sadie pouts. 

As Sadie tries to bargain for a later bedtime Harry sees Sidney crawl over to Louis on the couch. She kneels up beside him and taps him gently on the shoulder to make sure that he is paying attention to her. Then she leans in and whispers something in his ear. Louis’ face falls at whatever she’d said. He turns to whisper something back to her and then embraces her in another hug. 

What had Sidney said that shocked Louis so much? He’ll have to ask when the girls finally go to bed.

“Alright girls, you need to go to bed right now or I won’t tell you any stories tonight.” That finally gets Sadie to stop pouting and she stomps off to her room. Harry knows that his stories are her favorite part of bedtime.

Twenty minutes later, Harry gently pulls the door shut behind him. He finds Louis asleep, legs dangling over the arm of the loveseat and still wearing a rainbow macaroni necklace. He gently taps Louis’ shoulder to wake him.

“Huh?” Louis grunts groggily.

“Let’s get up to bed. That can’t be comfortable.” 

When they’ve settled under the covers next to each other, Harry remembers to ask about earlier. “Hey Lou, what did Sidney ask you earlier?” 

Louis doesn’t answer right away. Harry waits.

“She asked me if I was gonna leave...” He takes a stuttering breath. “‘Cause sometimes dads leave.”

“Oh.” Harry is stunned. He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah.” Louis sounds upset. Harry turns and pulls Louis into his side, hoping to comfort Louis and reassure himself that Louis won’t leave. He’s in too deep now.

✧ ✧ ✧

That weekend, the whole family is outside. The twins are kicking a football back and forth in the garden. Louis is watering the flowers and shrubs. Harry and Niall are washing Harry’s car in the street. Harry guffaws loudly as Niall slaps his knees laughing at who knows what.

Louis drags the hose over the the little tree in the middle of the yard. He’d picked it out at the nursery a week ago and has been tending to it carefully ever since. He squeezes the handle of the spray attachment to water the tree, making sure it gets enough water to survive the August heat.

“AAAAAAH!” One of the twins unleashes a high pitched scream. 

His head snaps up toward the sound, finding that Sidney is on the ground, Sadie standing over her with the ball hugged to her chest. Sidney begins to cry, holding her elbow. Louis drops the hose and runs over, Harry right on his heels. Harry rushes to help Sidney with her scraped and bloodied elbow so Louis chooses to talk to Sadie. 

“Did you push your sister?”

“She wouldn’t give me the ball!” Sadie pouts, lip quivering.

“Do you know it’s wrong to push people?” Sadie nods.

“Good. It’s not nice to push people and you can hurt them. You need to apologize to your sister. And then you are going to have a timeout for five minutes to think about what you’ve learned.”

“No!” 

“Don’t talk back, Sadie. If you don’t listen, I’ll give you ten minutes in timeout.”

“You’re so mean! Aaargh!” Sadie yells and runs off toward the house, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Harry shouts at Louis “What did you do to her?” before following Sadie into the house, carrying Sidney on his hip. 

Once Sidney has been bandaged up and Sadie has calmed down, Harry walks over to where Louis is winding up the hose. “What happened with Sadie?” He demands.

“I just told her she had to go in timeout for pushing Sidney and she threw a temper tantrum. It’ll be fine.”

“She doesn’t need a timeout.”

“Yes she does!” 

“They were just playing! Accidents happen. There’s no reason to punish her.”

“She did something wrong, so now she should have a timeout to think about it. Kids need structure and boundaries.” 

“I don’t believe in punishment.”

“Well it’s not just your decision. We’re both parents here. Ever since I walked through the door I’ve cooked, cleaned, scrubbed. I’m their parent too! But you just continue to act like I don’t know anything about kids. You ignore most of my efforts. And I get no thanks for all the work that I do. I can see why I’ve blocked out the memories if this was what my life was like.” 

Louis is furious, shaking with rage. Thoughtlessly, he grabs the end of the hose and aims at Harry. A steady stream of ice cold water showers him, soaking through his white shirt. “Argh! What are you doing!” He runs away. Niall, having watched the whole scene unfold from the street, grabs a bucket and runs toward Louis. He throws the contents, drenching Louis in sudsy water. He turns the hose on Niall and sprays him, aiming for his crotch. When Louis releases the handle to stop the flow of water, silence surrounds them. 

“Damn, you made it look like I’ve wet myself!” Niall complains. It’s enough to break the tension and the three grown men, clothes soaking wet fall to the ground in a fit of hysterics.

✧ ✧ ✧

The end of August brings the first signs of autumn. Cooler weather and turning leaves are welcomed after the long, hot summer.

One day after work, Liam says he needs to swing by the bank and asks if Louis minds waiting for a few minutes. He doesn’t. Liam parks across the street from the bank and Louis stays behind. Liam had parked his truck in front of a pet shelter. It’s hard to make out from the truck window, but Louis thinks there’s an animal lying near the window. He climbs out of the truck and walks up to the window. A large dog with short black fur is curled up in the middle of a pen. He lifts his head slowly when Louis approaches and one of his ears perk up. The dog sits up slowly and wags its tail as it watches Louis through the glass. He can faintly hear the dog’s melancolic whine coming through the window.

Liam returns from the bank and calls out to Louis “Ready to go, mate?”

With one last glance at the dog, Louis gets back in the truck and they drive off.

A week later, Liam asks to stop at the bank again. Louis walks over to the shelter window and is shocked to see the sad black dog from before still kenneled. The dog seems even less energetic than last time. His fur has grown out since last time too, starting to curl where it’s grown longer. He raises his head when Louis approaches, but doesn’t move from where he’s curled up. 

Without thinking, Louis enters the shelter. A young man in a volunteer shirt greets him. He halfheartedly returns the greeting, only focused on seeing the dog up close. He walks over to the window cages and notices the dog’s eyes following his movement. When he stops in front of his cage, the dog woofs quietly and his tail sways slowly.

“I’ll take him.”

“Are you sure you want him, he’s been here for a while. We have some younger puppies back here if you want to take a look.” The volunteer offers.

“No thanks, I want him.” 

“Alright,” The volunteer hands him a pen to fill out some paperwork. “Sign here.”

Liam enters the shop, having seen Louis through the window.”What’re you up to?”

Louis signs his name on the dotted line and swipes his credit card.

“You know Harry’s going to kill you right?”

Louis pauses. He hadn’t thought about how Harry would take this. He was excited, and he knew the girls would love a dog, but he doesn’t know where Harry stands on pets.

“Too late now!” Louis smirks and follows the volunteer over to the kennel.

“Hey Clifford, looks like you finally get your forever home!” The volunteer attaches a leash onto the dog’s collar and then lifts him down from the window ledge. 

“Hi Clifford! Louis drops to his knees to greet his new dog, petting him excitedly. Clifford licks his face in greeting.

They let Clifford hang his head out the window on the drive back to Louis’. Liam pulls the truck in front of the house. “Good luck in there.”

Louis climbs out of the truck and opens the back door, careful to grasp the leash tightly before Clifford has a chance to bolt. 

“Hey, I’m home!”

“Woof!” 

“What was that?” Harry shouts from the kitchen. The girls, having heard a dog, run out of their room into the entryway.

“I brought a friend home. This is Clifford.” 

“Awwww!” Sidney and Sadie both exclaim.

“He’s so cute!” Sadie shouts.

“Can we keep ‘im?” Sidney asks.

Harry rounds the corner, taking in the scene. A big black dog that probably weighs as much as one of the twins, is sitting on the rug. The twins are petting and hugging him and he doesn’t move, only his tail wags swiftly back and forth, wapping Louis’ leg with every swing.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Harry says flatly, before he walks away.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later comes that night after the girls have been tucked into bed.

And Louis is sat on the loveseat in front of the telly. The dog is laid out on a blanket the Louis had arranged as a makeshift bed. Harry returns from the girls’ bedroom, plops down on the couch, and he huffs “You can’t just bring a dog home without discussing it first.” 

“I just saw him and he looked so sad sitting in the kennel at the shelter. They said he’s good with kids and seemed really well-trained. And I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“It’s always about you isn’t it!” Harry crosses his arms. “You wanted a dog. But you didn’t give a moment to consider what a dog would mean. You didn’t think about how a dog would cost money, add responsibilities, need care. I’m already so busy with school and the twins. When am I going to have time to take the dog for a walk or give it a bath.”

“It’s not all on you, I have time after work. And the girls really love him already, I think they’ll be great with the dog.”

“You can’t just make decisions for my kids and bring a dog into my home without talking to me!” Harry throws his hands up, exacerbated.

“Your kids?” Louis stands abruptly, advancing toward Harry. “Really, just your kids? I see how it is.” He pushes past Harry, calls for the dog and walks out. The front door slams behind him. 

Harry takes a while to cool off. He knows he shouldn’t have said what he did. He feels terrible for hurting Louis. The guilt that he’d managed to ignore for so long returns in full force. He feels exhausted as he gets ready for bed and crawls beneath the sheets. There’s still no sign of Louis as he falls into a fitful sleep.

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis’ side of the bed is still cold when Harry wakes the next morning. The house is quiet and it’s still early, his alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. He lays in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking over his options. The lies are starting to pile up. It’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the guilt gnawing at the back of Harry’s mind. He knew that roping Louis into this false marriage was going to be a bad idea, but he hadn’t considered just how severe the consequences would be. The girls have grown so attached to Louis’ presence. And Harry can tell that the affection goes both ways. He never considered that someone as seemingly heartless as Louis Tomlinson would be so endearing and affectionate with his children.

As he weighs the pros and cons of revealing the truth to Louis, he hears the girls moving about downstairs. He strains to listen in, and discovers that he can hear Louis’ voice as well.

He pulls the covers back and heads down the stairs. He finds the twins sitting at the kitchen table, one on each side of Louis. Louis is peeling an orange and dividing the segments onto the girls’ plates as they eat. Sidney is eating a piece of toast smothered in too much grape jelly and Sadie is frowning as she takes another forkful of overcooked scrambled eggs. Clifford is sat beneath the table, fluffy tail wagging in hopes of catching a few crumbs.

“Morning.” Harry says as he heads over to the stove to make himself a plate. 

“I’m sorry I left last night.” Louis says in lieu of greeting. “I was really upset so I went for a walk to cool off. It was pretty late when I got back so I just slept on the couch.” 

“I’m sorry, too.” Harry says. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“It’s alright, it was just a silly argument.” Although his words try to brush it off, Harry can tell that the argument is still weighing heavily on Louis.

“No, Lou,” Harry rounds the counter to face him. “It wasn’t just an argument.” He’s had enough of the lies. He’s going to come clean. “I’ve got to tell you something. The argument wasn’t really just about the dog.” He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing to rip off the metaphorical bandage of revealing all his lies at once. 

“It’s just that, umm, you’re not my…I’m… ” Three sets of big blue eyes stare back at him as he trips over his words. A mental image flashes of those same pairs of eyes filled with sorrow. “You’re not…” His words get caught, there’s tears lodged in his throat and he can’t bring himself to break apart his happy little family, even though he knows it’s all a sham. He scrambles for a cover, something that would make sense and distract from his almost-admission. 

He lets his spirling emotions loose while attempting to bury all the lies under another heap of lies. “You’re not like you used to b-be.” Harry sniffles. “After th-the accident. You f-forgot our anniversary!” Harry sobs and Louis rushes to his side. Louis guides Harry into the lounge, away from the girls’ view and wraps his arms around him. Harry settles into the unexpected embrace and tucks his head into the crook of his neck. Louis’ hand rubs calming circles across Harry’s back and he collects himself enough to continue.

“You were always the one to remember. Bef-fore the accident, you were the one that always remembered dates. You knew all the birthdays and anniversaries. You said you had to ‘cause I was never any good at remembering. Last night-last night was our anniversary and you didn’t remember. I thought for a moment that the dog was a gift for me, that you’d remembered. But you didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry, H.” Louis voice cracks with sadness. “I know this is hard for you. I wish I could remember too.” Louis hugs him tighter. “But how ‘bout we make up for it. Let’s go out tonight. I’ll plan the best belated-anniversary dinner you’ve ever seen.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, love.” Louis smiles softly. “Go call Niall. Tell him he’s babysitting tonight. I’m gonna drop off the girls off at preschool and then I’ve got some reservations to make.” Louis heads back into the kitchen. 

Harry grabs his phone and brings up Niall’s contact. As the phone begins to ring, he shakes his head. _What has he done?_ Harry’s really too deep into this charade now.

✧ ✧ ✧

After the impromptu anniversary date at the only nice sit-down restaurant in the village, they wander across the street to the edge of the pier. It surely wasn’t the most upscale restaurant Harry could’ve chosen, but the pasta was cheesy and the wine was strong. The pleasant buzz from the alcohol protects them from the cool breeze coming off the harbour. Harry is surprised when Louis entwines their fingers, but doesn’t pull his hand away as they head down the pavement past the harbour. The setting sun casts an orange glow over the street and shines off the sides of the buildings. Shortly the waning light will steal the colors and cover everything in darkness. But for now, the remaining light paints everything in warm saturated hues.

Louis veers off their course to lean against the metal railing along the pavement, staring out over the harbour. Harry joins him, their shoulders brushing. A few boats bob gently on the water with the motion of the waves. Despite the beauty of the harbour, Harry only has eyes for Louis. He’s struck by the sharp contours of Louis’ profile, illuminated by the setting sun. There’s a slight breeze tonight and Louis wraps his arms around himself to ward off the chill. A distant ship sounds its horn as it comes into the harbour. 

“Do you know why the ships honk three times?” Louis’s soft voice catches Harry off guard. He doesn’t remember a time where Louis has ever sounded so tender when speaking to him. Lately their conversations had been filled with shouting and disagreements. This whole night has revealed a different, softer side of Louis’ personality. Harry doesn’t quite know what to make of it. 

“They honk three times when they come into port. It’s a signal that the ship is returning home. There’s actually an old legend about it.” Harry responds.

“Really, some old fisherman’s tale?” Louis turns toward him. 

“Yeah, something like that.” Louis seems curious to hear the story, so Harry continues. “There was a Portuguese fisherman named Arturo,” Harry begins in the unhurried, detailed pace that Louis has become fond of listening to. Long ago, Arturo came into a distant port. While docked, he’d gone into the village where he met a beautiful woman named Catarina. Arturo and Catarina fell in love. However, Catarina’s father was a wealthy and respected governor. He didn’t want his daughter to marry a poor fisherman. The governor told Arturo to leave. So Arturo left, but not before promising Catarina, his true love, that he’d come back for her. They made a plan. Arturo would signal his return with three long blasts of his horn and when Catarina heard his signal, she could dive off the rocks and swim out to his fishing boat. then the two of them would be on their way, sailing off into the sunset together and live happily ever after.” 

“Oh, that’s such a nice story.” Louis smiles sweetly.

“Mm hmm,” Harry hums ambiguously before finishing his tale. “A year later, Arturo returned as planned, but as Catarina swam out to the boat, a thick fog rolled in. She couldn’t find his boat. Arturo panicked and called out, “Catarina! Catarina! And she responded, “Arturo!” Upon hearing that, he dove into the icy water and they-”

“Kissed?”

“No, they drowned.”

“That’s a terrible story!” Louis throws his arms up in exasperation and stomps away, toward where they’d parked the car.

Harry reaches out and grabs Louis’ wrist and pulls him gently. Louis stops and turns to look at Harry.

“It’s not terrible, it’s romantic.”

“They both died. That’s not romantic.”

“But they fought to be with each other no matter what. That’s what’s romantic.”

Louis stares at Harry, their eyes meeting. He takes a moment to consider Harry’s statement.  
Harry leans in slowly, bringing his hand up to Louis’ jaw. There’s plenty of time for Louis to move away if he’d choose, but he doesn’t want to. He leans in to meet Harry. The kiss is merely a gentle press of their lips before Harry pulls away. Louis grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in for another kiss. There, in the middle of the street on the night of their made up anniversary, Harry deepens the kiss. 

They make the drive back to the house in near silence, tension stretched tightly between them. The tension snaps when Harry locks the front door. Louis presses him back up against the door and fumbles with the buttons of Harry’s dress shirt, eager to remove it. He pushes the fabric aside and trails the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and defined muscles of Harry’s chest. Harry’s mouth drops open in a silent moan, shocked by the intense sensation of Louis’ touch. Louis leans up and captures his bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. He deepens the kiss and wraps a hand around the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him closer. 

Harry pulls away, reaches for Louis’ hand and guides him toward the stairs. It’s time to move this out of the entryway. 

Once in the bedroom, they make quick work of their clothes, leaving both only in their pants. Louis plops onto the bed, situating himself in the middle, while Harry grabs lube and a condom from the nightstand. He tosses them onto the bed next to Louis then crawls over top of him, knees bracketing Louis’ narrow waist. 

“A condom?” Louis raises his eyebrow. “We’re married, you don’t need that.”

“Uhh,” Harry fumbles for an excuse. He’d grabbed it out of habit, though it’d been so long since he’d done this. “You prefer it so it’s not so messy,” he offers, shrugging.

“Not tonight. I need to feel you. It’s been so long.”

“Alright,” Harry shrugs.

Harry leans down to kiss him, supporting his weight on his knees and elbows. His kisses are light and teasing, in contrast to the deep kisses they’d shared downstairs. A long piece of Harry’s hair falls, tickling Louis’ forehead, so he reaches up to tuck it behind Harry’s ear. 

“Are you just gonna kiss me all night, or...” Louis inquires.

“Are you not satisfied with my kisses?” Harry gasps, pouting in mock offense. 

“Of course I am,” Louis says coyly as he slides his hand down Harry’s abs. “But I’d be much more satisfied with something else.” He moves his hand farther and presses over the bulge in Harry’s pants. Harry’s leans into the heat of his palm, just as Louis pulls away. 

Harry leans down and mouths along Louis’ sharp collarbones. Tongue and teeth mark the skin beneath the first letter of Louis’ tattoo. He follows the curve of Louis’ waist with his hands, stopping at the waistband of his pants. He drags the fabric down, following its path with his lips. Once they are removed, Harry sits back and admires the unobstructed view. He takes in the black tattoos contrasting with Louis’ tanned skin, the defined muscles of his arms, the smattering of chest hair, and the thickness of his thighs. 

“Turn over,” Harry’s voice is rough. Harry grabs the bottle of lube as Louis turns himself over.  
Harry kisses his shoulder blade, then the knobs of his spine, and then the cleft of his arse. His palms cover Louis’ arse, his thumbs part his cheeks, and his tongue swipes over his hole. Louis moans into the pillow and lifts his hips. Harry leans into it, laving at the ring of muscle. He brings a lubed finger up to meet his tongue. Louis pushes back, fucking himself on Harry’s tongue and finger. 

Another finger follows and soon Louis is panting, begging for more. “Please Harry.” 

“Ok,” Harry withdraws his fingers and taps Louis on the hip gently. “Turn back over for me, love.”

Louis rolls over. Harry takes in Louis’ heavy gaze. He brushes Louis’ sweat-damp fringe from his forehead and kisses him softly. He takes a moment to savor the softness and vulnerability that’s overcome Louis before he presses in. Harry rolls his hips, keeping his thrusts slow and deep, but he keeps his chest tight against Louis’. Their kisses fall into exchanges of breath. Louis wraps his leg around Harry’s back to pull him in. As Harry shifts closer, Louis drags his nails down Harry’s back and moans. “There.”

“You feel so good,” Harry says. He reaches down to wrap a hand around Louis’ length, matching the slow pace of his hips. He drags the pad of his thumb over the head on every upstroke. 

“I’m close,” Louis mutters. He threads his fingers into Harry’s hair, tugging sharply to pull him into another kiss. Harry slows his thrusts while continuing to pull him off. With a flick of Harry’s wrist, Louis comes, tightening around Harry’s length. Harry rolls his hips to work Louis through his orgasm before pulling out. He wraps his hand around his own cock, Louis’ come mixing with the and the lube. Harry quickens his fist, twisting his hand as he pulls himself off. Heat coils in his abdomen before he comes, splattering across Louis stomach. 

He pulls out and collapses on the bed, half on top of Louis, but careful not to crush him. Louis turns his head to face him. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. He leans forward and pecks Louis gently on lips. Harry wraps an arm around Louis’ middle tucking himself into his side. They stare at each other reverently, sharing one pillow and limbs entangled. He knows they should shower before they sleep, but for now Harry’s content to stay right where he is.

“Was it always like this?” Louis asks quietly, breaking their silence.

”Every time with you is like the first time.” Harry whispers.

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis wakes up with a warm beam of morning light falling across the bed. They’d forgotten to close the curtains last night. In his half-asleep state, he turns over to bury his face into the crook of Harry’s neck to escape the too-bright morning light. Harry’s arm tightens around his waist and Louis succumbs to sleep once more.

He wakes up to a freshly showered Harry peppering soft kisses across his cheeks and whispering to him. “Lou, time to wake up.” He lands a soft kiss on the top of Louis’ nose. 

Louis scrunches his nose up and turns his face back into the pillow, mumbling, “One more hour.” 

“Niall’s bringing the girls back at 10, if you get up now I can make you breakfast.”

“Fine, but I want bacon.” Louis pulls back the covers and drags himself to the shower. 

After a delicious breakfast of fried eggs and bacon, they stand side by side at the sink, Harry washing and Louis drying their breakfast dishes. They’re halfway through when there’s a knock at the front door.

“Go, I’ll finish up.” Louis takes the pan out of Harry’s hand. 

Louis listens as Harry unlocks the door and the girls yell their greetings at him. They’re loud and giggly, probably overloaded with sugary pastries from eating breakfast with Niall. A smile has overtaken Louis’ face without his permission. He hadn’t realized it in the peacefulness of the morning spent alone with Harry, but it did feel a bit strange for the house to be so quiet. He is so attached to Sidney and Sadie. 

They spend the afternoon at home. Louis takes the girls outside for playtime, trying to get them interested in kicking a football around. They lose interest after ten minutes, so they switch to skipping rope. Louis smiles at how simple and pleasant his life is. It had taken a while for him to come to terms with the years of memories he’d lost. But he feels like he’s found his place here. He loves Harry and the twins. He even adores his new friendships with Niall and Liam. He is content. 

After a fun afternoon outside, everyone is very hungry. He surprises the girls by making their favorite meal, homemade macaroni and cheese with peas and barbecue meatballs. Since the twins help him dry the dishes, so as a reward, Louis lets them pick out the movie. 

That’s how Louis finds himself curled up into Harry’s side, falling asleep against his chest as Harry quietly sings along to the songs in Tangled.

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry pads down the stairs, bare feet cold on the wood. He’s careful to step over the creaky stair. He’s hoping to get some writing done before Louis and the girls get up.

He makes some tea and then sits down at the table to write. Clifford trots into the kitchen and curls up under the table, laying across Harry’s feet. Harry has only written three sentences when Louis walks into the kitchen, wearing grey joggers and one of Harry’s old t-shirts. He stretches his arms over his head, exposing a sliver of tanned skin. 

“Morning.” Louis’ says softly, voice still rough from sleep. He drapes his arms over Harry’s shoulders to see what he’s doing. 

“Morning, thought you’d stay in bed. Lazy Sunday an’ all.” Harry turns his head up to plant a soft kiss on the corner of Louis’ mouth.

“Bed was cold,” Louis pulls his arms back and Harry misses the touch. Louis makes himself some tea with the remaining hot water and then returns to sit next to Harry. He slides the chair closer, their thighs touching under the table. He pulls out his phone and sips his tea. They sit in companionable silence as Harry gets back to writing his dissertation, the clicking of the keys the only sound. 

Harry is shuffling through a stack of papers, trying to find a source of one of the quotes he’d written in his notes when Louis looks up from his phone, “Hey, didn’t you get laid off from Tomlinson Textiles?” 

“Huh?” Harry grunts, startled by the question. Harry’s breath catches and his heart rate spikes. 

“Just this says that Tomlinson Textiles is under new ownership and putting up a new factory. I thought they’d laid you off and closed a factory?”

He tries to play it off normal and ignore every alarm bell ringing in his mind. He hopes Louis doesn’t catch on. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Two years ago. They shut down the Elsgrove factory and laid off fifty people.”

He tries to act like he’s still searching for a paper, but he’s watching Louis out of the corner of his eye. Something’s not right.

Louis just continues scrolling, not aware of the anxiety squeezing at Harry’s chest.

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis opens the BBC News app to read through the sports section. He’s keen to see the predictions for the upcoming boxing match. His thumb accidentally bumps one of the articles on the home screen instead of the menu button that he’d meant to press. It opens to an article with the headline “Tomlinson Textiles breaks new ground”. He’s about to click out of it, when he remembers Harry saying he’d been laid off from a Tomlinson Textiles factory.

“Hey, didn’t you get laid off from Tomlinson Textiles?” 

“Huh?”

He explains the article and Harry nods, “Oh, uh. Yeah. Two years ago. They shut down the Elsgrove factory and laid off fifty people.”

Interesting. He wonders where the new factory will be. He scrolls down, slowly reading the article.

> Tomlinson Textiles breaks ground on new factory in Harrogate. Charlotte Tomlinson, owner and CEO, and the board of trustees were present for the formal ground breaking ceremony at the site of their newest manufacturing facility. This is Charlotte Tomlinson’s first public appearance since her father’s funeral two months ago.
> 
> As the new owner, she is the first female CEO since the company was founded in 1887 by her great great grandfather. And at just 23 years old, Charlotte is also the youngest CEO of a multi-million pound company. This groundbreaking ceremony marks the beginning of a new era for both the company and for the business world. 
> 
> However, Charlotte was not always set to inherit Tomlinson Textiles. Three months ago, her brother, Louis Tomlinson, 29, went missing. Search efforts began immediately after it was discovered he had fallen overboard his yacht at night. He has not been recovered and is presumed lost at sea.

Louis opens the app menu and clicks to the sports section. An article about the boxing match that he was looking for is the first in the queue and he opens that up. He’s halfway through the article when he’s bombarded with an unexplained feeling of animosity envelops him. When he closes his eyes to shake off the strange feeling, he sees an image of him shouting into a phone and then throwing it across the room. He gasps, standing up so suddenly that the chair tips backwards onto the kitchen floor. 

“I remember.” He mutters and begins pacing the from the table to the counter.

“Louis? You okay?” Harry looks shaken by Louis’ outburst.

“I was mad at her.” Louis is mumbling things aloud, trying to grasp any fragments of memories as they float through his mind. “Charlotte wanted me to come home, but I didn’t want to. I broke my phone.”

“Lou, what’s going on?” Harry reaches out a hand to touch Louis’ arm.

Suddenly a memory of Harry, touching his arm the same way comes to mind. Unlike the comforting touch, the memory shows Louis brushing off the touch and shouting back at Harry. They’d been arguing on the dock and Harry had fallen into the water. 

“I don’t know. I think I can remember. There’s so much. But I know her, that Tomlinson. I was arguing with her on the phone. It doesn’t make sense.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if physical jarring might loosen some more of the thoughts that are trapped. 

He grabs his phone and brings up the article again, looking closely at the grainy photo of a woman in a smart business suit weilding a gold-plated shovel. He glances back over the article again and this time it clicks. _Louis Tomlinson, 29, went missing...had fallen overboard...is presumed lost at sea._ He blinks at his phone. 

That’s him.

Memories start rushing back, faster and faster. He can’t make out much, as it feels like hundreds of voices all talking at once. He picks up the chair off the floor and sits down, resting his head on his elbows. The onslaught of memories brings on a headache more vicious than any of the ones he’d had in the hospital while trying to force the memories. He feels Harry’s hand gently brushing circles up and down his spine. He tries to focus on the sensation to ground him. After the initial rush of memories, Louis is able to sift through his mind a bit easier. Nothing is quite in order, but some things stand out more than others. 

He was Louis Tomlinson. Is Louis Tomlinson. Charlotte is his sister. He had fallen overboard from his yacht. He is not married to Harry. He never has been.

After what feels like hours, Louis raises his head and looks Harry in the eye. “Why am I here?”

“I’m sorry, Lou.” Harry whispers, barely audible.

“Why am I here?” he repeats, the words choked out around the lump in his throat.

“You owed me money. It was Niall’s idea when we saw the news. Your sister didn’t identify you and you- you couldn’t remember.” a tear rolls down Harry’s cheek. 

“You were just using me?” 

“It was only supposed to be for a little while, until you’d made back the money. But then, you were so helpful and good with the girls. I tried to tell you the truth a few times, but it was just...I just couldn’t.”

Louis sits in silence, contemplating Harry’s words. His head is pounding and his chest feels tight. He thinks his heart is breaking. He doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t think there is anything he could say. So he gets up and walks to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks weakly.

“I think I should leave.”

“No please, stay.” Harry advances toward him, reaching out for him.

“Harry, I don’t belong here.” Louis whispers, his voice monotone. He backs away toward the stairs.

“Yes, you do! Please stay!” Harry cries out.

“I don’t belong to you. And I don’t belong to the girls. I’m going to get my things.” Louis rushes up the stairs. He knows that if he looked back, his resolve would break. His heart is in shambles, but he has to leave. He’s not meant to be here. This isn’t his life. 

Louis looks around the bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a long moment, trying to collect his thoughts and reign in his emotions. Then he turns and slowly descends the stairs. 

“There’s nothing of mine here.” This realization hurts the most. He allows himself one last look at Harry. His cheeks are flushed red and his eyes are damp with unshed tears. “Goodbye, Harry.” Louis opens the front door. 

“For what it’s worth, thank you.” Harry gently closes the door behind him.

He gets halfway down the path before he gives in to the temptation and turns to take in the house once more. He spots movement in the front window. The twins and Clifford are watching from the lounge. Sidney raises her hand and waves. The tears start to fall and Louis doesn’t have the energy to stop them.

✧ ✧ ✧

“For what it’s worth, thank you.” Harry gently closes the door behind him. He leans his back against the solid wood, although it feels like the world is falling out from under him. All the guilt he’d been suppressing has come to a boil and he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to handle the fallout.

The twins run out of the lounge, dressed in their pyjamas and looking worried. Fuck, Harry is not prepared for breaking his little girls’ hearts. He doesn’t know how to tell them that Louis was never meant to stay. 

“Papa!” Sidney tugs insistently on the hem of his shirt. “Where’s Daddy going?” 

Harry takes a sharp breath. He kneels down to their level. “Oh, sweetie, Louis has to go back home.”

“But this is home,” Sadie’s brow furrows in confusion.

“I know, but he has another family and he needs to go see them now.”

“Is he coming back?” Sidney asks.

“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know.”

Harry doesn’t go after him. Every fibre of his being is burning to chase after him. He wants to throw open the door and run down the street to beg him to come back. But he knows he doesn’t have any right to ask Louis stay. 

He knew from the start that Niall’s plan was flawed. He knew what he was doing would end in a mess. He just didn’t consider that it would be impossible to pick up the pieces. He tries to move on, going through the motions of his Sunday chores and attempting to distract the girls with endless Disney movies.

After a long, tear-filled day for both him and the twins, he tucks them in bed. 

“How ‘bout a bedtime story?” He asks gently, hoping that it might cheer them up.

“Is Louis coming back soon?” Sadie asks instead.

Harry sighs. “I don’t know.” He brushes her hair away from her face. 

He hears sniffling from the other bed, then Sidney’s small voice breaks. “But he said he wouldn’t leave!”

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis walks aimlessly with no direction and no purpose. Tears stream down his face, blurring his vision. He gets about three blocks down before he realizes he has no clue where to go. He has a credit card and his phone. He can’t call anyone to help him. Liam and Niall were both obviously involved with the lies. He thinks to call his assistant, Andrew, but then remembers his phone number had been washed away when Louis and his old phone had fallen overboard.

There’s a metal bench in front of a church. He sits down, and tries to collect himself. He needs a plan. He wipes at his tears and thinks. There weren’t many options. He knows there is a train station near the centre of town. If he keeps walking, he’ll probably get there in under half an hour. So Louis walks.

One train ticket, a few transfers, and eight hours later, Louis arrives back home. He gets a taxi and directs the driver to his family’s estate. He doesn’t have a key so he rings the doorbell and waits. Moments later, he is greeted by a friendly face.

“Good afterno- Louis?” Andrew bursts out, confusion washing over his face.

“Hey Andrew. It’s good to see you. Is my sister home?”

“No sir, she has gone to London for the week.” He states in his overly formal matter-of-fact way despite the look of disbelief on his face. “Sir are you alright? You’ve been missing for quite some time.”

“I’m alright, Andrew,” Louis assures him. “If you let me in, I’ll go make some tea and tell you all about it.” Louis pats Andrew on the shoulder and enters the home. 

Andrew is in a bit of a shock. Between a presumably dead man showing up at his door and the fact that Louis just offered to make tea on his own, Andrew is sure that hell has frozen over. He follows Louis into the kitchen, where he has already set about filling the electric kettle. Andrew stands across the center island from Louis, waiting for him to begin the promised tale.

Louis continues making the tea, hoping that keeping his hands busy will distract his mind from the pain of talking about what he’d left behind. 

“I fell overboard, as you’re probably aware. I’d hit my head fairly hard when I was in the water, and that caused amnesia. I couldn’t remember anything. I’d been taken to a hospital. Ha-Harry,” his voice breaks as he holds back tears. “Harry said that Charlotte came to the hospital but didn’t identify me. My memories just came back this morning and I knew I should leave.” 

“Louis,” Andrew looks very concerned, “you should have called me. I could have arranged for a car to pick you up.” 

“Thank you, Andrew. I know you would have. But my phone died when I fell into the water so I didn’t have your number. It was alright on the train anyway. It gave me some time to think about what to do about my sister. Could you please arrange for a meeting tomorrow morning with my personal lawyer straight away?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Oh, and Andrew, thank you I really appreciate the work you do. Even if I haven’t always said so.” With that, Louis takes his mug of tea up to his bedroom.

Charlotte returns from London the following day, having cancelled her appointments as soon as she’d heard that Louis had come back. But by then, Louis had a plan in motion. 

Unfortunately, his lawyers had informed him that there was no legal action he could take against his sister. Although what she had done was despicable and cruel, there was nothing illegal about failing to identify Louis at the hospital. However, his father’s will was the one way that Louis would be able to take his sister down.

At the time of his death, his father’s will was still written so that Louis was to inherit the entirety of Tomlinson Textiles. Charlotte, being the next-of-kin to Louis was able to claim ownership after he was presumed dead. However, as Louis is, indeed, still alive, he is the rightful owner of Tomlinson Textiles. 

It takes only one brief meeting with the board of trustees to convince them to recognize Louis’ ownership and sign over the company. When Louis recounts his sister’s wrongdoing, Charlotte is immediately stripped of her title, her duties, and her shares. 

She, of course, argues with Louis. She begs and pleads for a position within the company. 

“You can keep the title and be the owner, and I’ll just run the company from the background. It’s a win-win. You never wanted the responsibility anyway.” She offers, naively hoping that Louis will hand over a piece of the company with the right incentive.

“Charlotte, I’ve learned a lot in the past few months. And I’ve gotten used to the responsibilities of the working class. Surprisingly, I’ve learned to cook, clean, and do laundry. I even had a job building houses. And I actually liked it. It gave me purpose. After all that, I think I can handle running the company just fine on my own.” 

“You actually liked living in squalor with those neanderthals?” Charlotte scoffs. She’s dumbfounded that he brushed off her offer so easily.

“Those “neanderthals” are more civilized than _some people_ around here.” 

“You’re insane. They should’ve left you in that psych ward at the hospital.”

“You left me there!” Louis throws up his hands and storms off, effectively ending the conversation. 

The rest of the week after his return is spent in meetings. As the owner and CEO of Tomlinson Textiles, Louis has to meet with the company’s lawyers and accountants to familiarize himself with the current state of his company. The intense workload fills his time and prevents him from dwelling on the hollow feeling in his chest. 

It’s only at night when he returns to his quiet house and his empty bedroom that he allows himself time to think about Harry, Sidney, and Sadie. Loneliness and regret surrounds him as he tosses and turns.

On Saturday, Charlotte invites some of Louis’ old acquaintances over for brunch. Louis’ sure it’s just an attempt at quelling any rumours about her. Regardless, he’s happy for a chance to see some of his friends again.

Ten of them are gathered around a large table in the sun room. Mimosas and bloody marys are being handed out and a short menu card is placed at each seat. Louis greets each person with a hug before taking his seat at the head of the table. He’s thankful that Zayn is seated to his right so that he can catch up with his friend during the meal. 

A server comes out to take everyone’s order. Louis, as the guest of honour, starts them off, “I’ll have the sausage egg bake, please.” Zayn raises his eyebrow, knowing that Louis is not usually one to be polite with waitstaff. He brushes it off and then places his own order for the vegetarian quiche. 

“How’re you doing? Heard what happened.” Zayn asks. News of Louis’ return had spread like wildfire.With a story as incredible as Louis’ the rumors had been impossible to contain. Each repetition was a little further from the truth, so there was no telling which version of events Zayn had actually heard. 

“I’m okay. It’s a big adjustment, coming back here. What’ve you been doing lately?” Louis deflects, hoping that Zayn will pick up on his desire to avoid the subject.

“Not much, probably nothing as crazy as you. Come on man what’d you do for the last three months? Heard you’d been living in a run-down shack and stealing food from a market. Bet you have some wild stories.” Zayn ribs.

Louis grits his teeth. “No, wasn’t a shack.“ Although at first he had thought it was run-down, Louis had come to appreciate Harry’s house and all the love he’d put into it over the years. He felt instantly defensive about the home that Harry’s built for his family. “I don’t feel like talking about that right now.”

“Oh, sorry mate.” The conversation is effectively snuffed out. 

Over the course of the meal, Louis attempts to engage in other conversations. Mark and Stan are discussing the upcoming boxing match. Mary, Luke, Sara, and Zach are talking about a past trip to Ibiza. Zayn and George have started talking about the latest Marvel movie trailer. None of the conversations hold his interest. He feels out-of-place among the people he considers friends. Even his bloody mary, once a staple of his brunch experience, doesn’t taste quite right. The glass sits untouched, dripping condensation onto the linen tablecloth.

Louis says goodbye as each person takes their leave, although his farewells are half-hearted. He thanks the staff as they clear the table. Zayn had stuck around as the other guests left and he follows Louis into the sitting room. 

“What’s up man, you seem upset.” Zayn prods. Zayn leads them over to the sectional and Louis sits. It takes a while for him to figure out where to start.

“It’s just…never mind.” Louis doesn’t know if he should talk to Zayn about what he’s going through. They’ve never been the type of friends that talk about feelings. They’re more the type that encourages the other to drown any heartache with copious amounts of alcohol and drugs. But Louis knows partying won’t help him move on this time.

“Hey, mate, I know it must have been pretty hard for you, living alone in a shack for months. But, you can talk to me.” 

“I wasn’t living alone, and it wasn’t a shack. Those are just rumors.” Louis is shaking his head. “After Charlotte claimed that I wasn’t me, someone else came to the hospital and took me home.”

“You were kidnapped?” Zayn exclaims.

“No, no. Not kidnapped. Not exactly.”

“Did they want your money.”

“No. Well, yes, but it’s more complicated than that. You remember the day we went to the Elsgrove Country Club? The next day, I went back for a round of golf even though you had to leave early. There was this caddy…” Louis’ train of thought gets lost in the muck as he recalls his first encounter with Harry. At the time he’d been upset that Zayn had flaked on their tee time and he’d taken out his aggravation on anyone near him. He realizes now how absolutely horrible he’d been to Harry. 

“Well the short of it is that I owed him money.”

“So he did want your money.”

“Anyway, he took me home, hoping that I’d make up some of the money before someone came to find me. But no one came.” Louis falls silent. 

“That sucks. Good thing you got out of there. You don’t need to waste your time around those peasants.” Zayn jokes. 

Louis bristles. “They weren’t peasants, they’re nice people.” 

“Mate, you’re crazy if you don’t see that they were just using you.”

It hurts to hear the same accusation he’d thrown at Harry repeated by someone else. It feels wrong to say that Harry was using him when, for him, it seemed like a normal relationship. Louis can feel the tears pooling behind his eyes. He wants to defend Harry and the girls, even to defend Niall and Liam. He knows there was no malice behind what they’d done. Why is that so hard for Zayn to understand? 

“You know what, I’m not feeling well. I’m gonna have a nap. See yourself out.” Louis takes off down the hall, hoping he makes it to his bedroom before the tears start to fall.

He wakes hours later, having missed dinner. He wanders down to the kitchen to cook up a late night omelette. Just like how Harry taught him. He’s standing over the stove, stirring his eggs when Andrew walks in. They both startle, neither expecting to see the other. 

“Hey, Andrew.” Louis waves half-heartedly with the dirty spatula.

“Good evening, sir. Did you ring for me? I could’ve had a meal brought up to you.”

“That’s alright, Andrew. I am able to cook for myself.” He points to his pan of eggs with the spatula, “And I haven’t set the kitchen on fire yet,” Louis chuckles flatly, the laugh not reaching his eyes. 

“That’s good, sir.” Andrew pretends to laugh along with Louis’ attempt at humour. The room falls quiet, neither knowing what to say. Louis finishes up his omelette and slides it onto a clean plate. It ends up resembling a scramble more than an omelette, but it turned out better than he expected. He takes a bite.

It’s Andrew that finally breaks the silence. “If I may, sir, are you okay?”

Louis considers giving the same canned answer as he’s done every other time someone has asked in the past week. But he surprises himself when he shakes his head. 

“I've behaved so rudely. I don't know how you put up with me for so long.”

Andrew raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that Louis has more to say.

“You've done so many wonderful things for me and I've never even once said thank you...I'm sorry.” Louis says, genuinely contrite. 

“Apology accepted, sir.” Andrew comes around the counter and grabs the dirty pan from the stove. He goes to the sink to wash it. 

Louis takes another bite of egg, considering his next question carefully as he chews. “Everyone thinks I'm crazy around here. Do you think they're right?” 

Andrew turns away from the sink, facing Louis. “Your not...No. You... most of us go through life only knowing of our own circumstance. But now you’ve been given the rare opportunity to see life from an entirely new perspective. You’ve recognized your privilege. How you choose to use that information is entirely up to you.” He turns back around and finishes scrubbing the pan. He sets it on a rack to dry and then leaves the kitchen without another word. 

Louis finishes his eggs in silence.

✧ ✧ ✧

Pink balloons and crepe paper streamers have transformed Harry’s lounge into the epicentre of the twins’ birthday party. The kitchen table is filled with kid-friendly hors d'oeuvres that Harry’d found on Pinterest and slaved away to prepare. It’s the last weekend of September and the weekend before the twins’ fifth birthday.

Harry has been saving up money for months to make it the best birthday he can for his girls. They’ve been having a really hard time since Louis left and he hopes that this party will help. He’s invited most of the kids from preschool and even roped Niall and Liam into helping out. He’s preparing for chaos that fifteen children could possibly unleash. 

He’s mixing the punch, dumping soda and juice into a large bowl and can hear the girls in their room, chatting animatedly as they play. Harry’s ears perk up when he hears Louis’ name.

“Do you think Louis’ll come?” Sadie asks.

“I hope he brings presents!” Sidney claps her hands excitedly.

Harry feels like his heart is split down the middle. The girls are going to be devastated. He knows Louis won’t come. He’d let the girls make an invitation for him, but he didn’t have the strength to actually mail it off. He didn’t want to have Louis showing up after two weeks, knowing that he wasn’t going to stay. He’d just gotten the girls adjusted to their new life without Louis.

Liam arrives with the cake that Harry had ordered from the bakery. It upsets him that he didn’t have time to bake a cake for his own daughters, but between his dissertation and the extra shifts at the country club, he is stretched so thin. He sets the cake on the counter and begins sticking little candles on the top. “How’s it going?”

“Busy.” Harry picks up the crumpled to-do list off the counter and starts reading items off. “I got the sandwich trays ready for lunch but there’s still crisps that I have to set out. I have to put the party favors in the little baggies. I need to find somewhere to put the presents. And the girls need to be dressed yet. And-”

“Woah, H, slow down.” Liam grasps his shoulders firmly. “Breathe. You still have an hour. It’s going to be fine.” 

Just then Niall arrives with some yard games and his portable speaker. “Hey! Oh?” Niall notices the state that Harry’s in. “Everything okay, Harry?”

“Harry’s just panicking that he won’t get everything done before the kids arrive.”

“Don’t you worry, this is going to be the best birthday party those kids will ever see.” He snatches the crumpled list from Harry’s hand. “Leave it to Uncle Niall.” He reads over the items before he starts delegating the remaining duties among the three of them. “Harry, go get the girls dressed and do their hair. Liam and I will handle the rest.”

After all the kids have gone home the girls play with their new toys in their room. Liam and Niall stay after to help Harry clean the house. As predicted, the group of small children tore through his house, leaving behind a chaotic mess like a tornado. It takes a few hours to take down the deflating balloons and torn crepe paper streamers, pack up all the leftover food, and scrub the spilt punch from the carpet. That night, the girls fall asleep fast, worn out by all the excitement. Harry is equally exhausted, and he out as soon as he crawls between the sheets, not even plugging his phone into the charger before he falls asleep.

✧ ✧ ✧

Following Andrew’s vague words of wisdom, Louis decides that he is going to call Harry. He picks up his phone as soon as he gets back to his room. He opens the contacts and scrolls to H, but is caught off guard by the contact name. Instead of ‘Harry’, his contact is listed as ‘hubby (heart eye emoji)’. He remembers back a few weeks ago when he’d changed it over as a joke. Tears spring up, blurring the screen in front of him. He locks his phone and tosses it across the bed. Maybe he’ll try again tomorrow.

Two weeks goes by before he finally convinces himself to call. The phone rings once and then goes straight to voicemail. 

He doesn’t leave a message.

Louis returns to Elsgrove the following week. During one of his many meetings with the accountants, Louis had discovered that Tomlinson Textiles still owns the facility in Elsgrove. No offers to buy the building had been made in the three years since the factory had been shut down. 

Louis has been scheming, and a month later, he finally has a plan for the Elsgrove facility. He just needs to see it in person first. He’d asked Andrew to have his yacht docked in the harbour for his trip and Louis intends to stay for a few days. Charlotte has been unbearable the past few months. She always has a comment about the business decisions Louis is making or a suggestion for the direction of the company. She takes every moment she can to lecture Louis about running the business properly. He definitely needs a few days away from her.

And although he hasn’t admitted it to himself, a part of him hopes that if he spends time in Elsgrove, he will inevitably run into Harry. Since he tried to call a week ago, Harry hasn’t returned his call and at this point, Louis hasn’t been able to muster the courage to try again. He knows he’s scared. But he left so suddenly and he’s afraid that Harry won’t take him back. He would be devastated if Harry rejected him. So he doesn’t try.

Louis doesn’t tell anyone, especially not Harry, that he’s in Elsgrove. Most people would try to convince him that his plan is foolish, anyway. Most of his advisors claimed that reopening the least profitable facility in the company is a terrible business decision. But, Louis sees things a little differently now. He wants to bring those jobs back to the people in Elsgrove, the people that were, for a short time, his neighbours. It feels like the right thing to do.

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry and the girls are walking home from the park when he spots a familiar yacht docked in the harbour. He does a double take and blinks his eyes. It must be a mirage. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking. But all the blinking doesn’t change what’s in front of him. The elegant scroll spelling out “Lonesome Sparrow” across the stern gleams in the sun. That is Louis’ yacht, there’s no mistaking it. Harry walks a little faster, hoping to get back home without running into Louis. He doesn’t know how the girls would react and he really doesn’t know how he would react.

A week ago Louis had tried to call. The morning after the girls’ birthday party, Harry had discovered his phone was dead. He’d plugged it in and went about his day. When he turned it back on a few hours later, a ‘Missed call from Lou’ notification had popped up. It spooked Harry and he dropped his phone. 

Louis hadn’t left a voicemail and Harry never returned the call. He was still so heartbroken, and the girls were too. They were still trying to pick up the pieces of their life and move on. He wouldn’t dare take the risk of letting Louis back into their life because there would be no more pieces to pick up if he left them again. 

He calls up Niall as soon as he gets home. 

“Niall.”

“What’s up.”

“Louis’ back.” Harry chokes out.

“I’m comin’ over” Niall hangs up and bursts through the door minutes later. 

“Where is he?” Niall demands, looking around frantically.

“He’s not here Niall. He’s in town. I saw his boat.” Harry sighs.

“Oh. Did you talk to him?”

“Haven’t s-seen him.” Harry stammers. “I came back here. I’m not ready to see him.” 

“Why the hell not? You deserve answers Harry. Even if you both decide to never speak again, this limbo you’ve been living in isn’t healthy. You need to talk to him.” Niall might have a point, but Harry is not quite ready to agree with him. It was Niall that got him into this mess in the first place, after all.

He thinks it over, weighing the pros and cons of talking to Louis. For every good outcome, there’s an equally horrible scenario that comes to mind. Niall can tell he’s overthinking this. 

“But what if he doesn’t want to come back? What if he leaves again?”

“H, that man was ready to spend the rest of his life with you.”

“But he left as soon as he found out it was all fake.” Harry sounds defeated.

Niall pauses for a minute, carefully considering his options. Finally he asks, “Do you love him?”

“Of course.” Harry answers instinctively before slapping a hand over his mouth at the realisation. He’d never said that out loud before. He’d never told Louis that he loved him. 

“Did Louis know?” Harry shakes his head slowly.

“You should tell him.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Harry is buzzing with a potent cocktail of adrenaline and anxiety the whole drive over.

As they turn the last corner, the harbour comes into view. There, pulling away from the dock, is the Lonesome Sparrow. 

“He’s leaving,” Harry murmurs.

Niall pulls up to the pavement and parks the car. “It’s not too late,” he encourages. “Go get your man.”

Harry jumps out of the car and runs to the end of the dock, shouting and waving his arms. The yacht is nearly 100 metres from the dock and he doesn’t know if he can even be heard, but it’s worth a try.

The girls run up by his side and start shouting along with him.

Suddenly, a person appears near the railing. Harry would recognize him anywhere. Louis is there!

Instead of shouting back, Louis runs off toward the bridge.

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis hears a something strange, he can’t quite make out the noise over the sound of the engine, but it’s not mechanical. He walks up to the railing to have a look and a movement catches his eye from the shore. There, at the end of the dock are three people. It takes just seconds to realize that the flailing limbs belong to Harry and the girls. Harry’s arms flail above his head, waving wildly to get Louis’ attention. The girls are jumping up and down. All three of them must be shouting. He can hear the sounds, but the words are drowned out by the engine. He knows any reply wouldn’t reach Harry.

He has to get back to Harry.

Louis runs off, toward the bridge. 

“Sorry sir, I can’t turn the yacht around until we’re in deeper waters.” The captain states.

“Then go faster!” Louis shouts in distress.

“Sir, it’s a no wake zone. This is as fast as I can go.”

His heart is beating as adrenaline courses through his veins. The possibility of missing his chance to see Harry, grips him with fear and pushes him forward. If he doesn’t get to Harry soon, he might miss his chance. He races to the stern, stopping to pull a bright orange life vest from the cabinet on his way. He throws it on over his head and tightens the straps before diving off the side of the yacht into the chilly water of the harbour. 

The water engulfs him. The all too familiar feeling of plunging into deep waters shocks him, but he’s able to pull himself to the surface with the aid of the life vest. It takes him a few moments to orient himself, treading water to avoid being pushed around by the waves. He paddles outward, distancing himself from the yacht before turning course to aim toward shore. Swimming to shore had seemed like a rational idea while on the deck of his yacht. Now faced with the distance from shore and the pummeling waves, Louis sees the error of his calculations. He’s not a strong swimmer and also lacks endurance for most physical activities. But he’s still determined. He sets off in an uncoordinated front stroke, his legs kicking at the water to propel him farther. 

He’s quickly becoming exhausted, but then he hears a shout from the distance “Arturo!” 

At first, he guesses he is hearing things. Hope and optimism make him stop, floating in the water to listen closer. “Arturo!” He hears repeated. He turns toward the nearest dock and sees a small fishing boat pull away from the dock. 

“Catarina!” Louis shouts and begins swimming in the direction of the boat.

As the boat gets closer, he can make out Harry’s figure. “Arturo!” 

The fisherman steers his boat up along Louis’ side and Harry tosses a float out to Louis and pulls him forward. Together the fisherman and Harry grab Louis under the arms and drag him onboard. 

Louis falls into Harry’s chest, water soaking instantly through Harry’s clothes. He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and pulls him impossibly closer. He kisses Harry thoroughly, trying to convey all of his emotions of the past few weeks. The hurt of being lied to, the regret of leaving so suddenly, and most of all the grief and loneliness of living without Harry. The kiss is bittersweet as tears fall. 

Louis breaks the kiss to catch his breath.

“I love you.” Harry whispers against his cheek. “I should’ve told you sooner, Lou.”

“Ah hem.” The boat captain suddenly clears his throat, interrupting their very romantic moment. Louis stares at him, daggers in his eyes. “If you’d sit, I’ll drive us back to the docks. Can’t take off with you too standin’ there.”

They take a seat on the thin metal bench, not an inch of space between them. Louis is thankful for that, as he’s starting to feel just how cold he really is. His clothing is soaked, a puddle of water forming below him. 

Harry, not caring of the water, wraps his arms tightly around Louis engulfing him in a hug. Harry’s warmth is pleasant antidote to the chill of the water and the wind. Louis leans into his arms and says, “I love you too, in case that wasn’t obvious from how I jumped into the harbour like a madman.” Harry chuckles. They both fall silent as the enormity of the moment catches up with them. Louis traces the anchor tattooed on Harry’s wrist as he debates what to say next. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry I left you.” He kisses him softly.

Harry grabs Louis’ hand and entwine their hands, the anchor and rope aligning. “I’ve missed you too. I thought you’d left for good.”

Niall, Liam, and the girls are waiting at the edge of the dock. The girls wave excitedly, jumping up and down as the boat approaches. 

Louis is hardly off the boat before he has his two favourite girls wrapped tightly around his legs. They make the greatest welcoming committee he’s ever seen. A tear escapes as the girls start arguing about which one missed Louis more. Having the twins wrapped around him, he realises there is no way he’d ever leave them again. He’s so in love with them. He can’t believe he ever thought that he would be better off giving up his new family for his old life.

Sadie tugs on the edge of Louis’ soaked shirt and glances up with her big innocent eyes, “Are you coming back home forever?”

“If you’ll have me.” Louis bends down, kneeling to the girls’ level to wrap his arms around them both as he cries happily. “I’m sorry I left you both. You mean so much to me and I’d like to come back home forever.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Louis wakes up, limbs wrapped around Harry.

He’s too warm and he’s hard. He can feel Harry starting to stir, on the edge of waking up. He rocks his hips forward. Harry startles awake with a sleep-rough moan. “Lou.” 

“Shh, I’ve got you.” Louis whispers. He moves his hand from Harry’s hip to his cock, palming his semi while he continues rocking his hips forward. Harry shifts his legs so that his thighs surround Louis’ cock. Louis strokes him with a dry hand. 

Harry grows impatient and whispers, “Want you in me.” Louis reaches for lube. Harry is still a bit open from the previous night. He presses forward, tight heat pulling him in. They rock together slowly, hips never parting as the tension slowly builds. Louis returns his hand, now slick with lube and pulls Harry off at an unhurried pace. He feels Harry tighten as he drags his thumb over the head. Louis kisses the curve where his neck meets his shoulder to muffle his sound. His incessant biting and sucking is sure to leave a mark. 

He shifts up adjusting the angle slightly and pressing into Harry’s spot as he rolls his hips. It’s not long before Harry arches his back and muffles his moans in the pillow as he comes. Louis presses forward, burying himself to the hilt before coming inside Harry. He goes to pull out, but Harry catches his hip with his hand, “Stay.” In answer, he presses his hips in closer, keeping his softening cock inside. Louis brings his hand to his mouth and licks off Harry’s cum. Harry scrunches his nose up but starts to laugh. The movement causes Louis’ soft cock to slip out and cum drips down Harry’s thigh. Louis pinches his hip playfully. “I think it’s time for a shower.”

They take turns in the shower stall, as they do most mornings. The rest of their morning routine comes easy for them. 

They share the duty of waking up the girls. Louis gets them dressed while Harry cooks them breakfast. Then they drop them off at primary school before heading off to work. 

It’s a busy day at the office for Louis, and he’s thankful when the clock strikes five and he can head home. He’s greeted by his two favorite girls and a huge mass of curly, black fur barreling toward him when he opens the door. 

Harry calls them to dinner and kisses Louis in greeting as he sets a pan of lasagna on the table. He dishes up a heaping plate of his favorite dish and digs in. 

“Hey Lou, did you know what today is?” Harry moves his foot, twining his ankle between Louis’ under the table as they eat. 

Louis thinks for a moment, but nothing comes to mind. “I’m I supposed to know?” He asks cautiously.

“It’s alright if you don’t. It’s been one year since I brought you home from the hospital!” 

“Oh. Oh! Wow. Has it really been a year?” 

And what a year it’s been. 

In that two weeks after intentionally throwing himself overboard, they’d focused on dating in the more traditional sense and had come to an understanding about their brief period of imaginary marriage. The deception did result in them falling in love, so they agreed to put the past behind them. From there, everything changed so quickly. Louis moved back in with Harry and started making big plans for their future.

They spent the fall fixing up Harry’s house. With Louis’ money and acquired handyman skills, they managed to make all the necessary repairs so that it would be ready to sell when the time came. Louis hired Liam’s crew to build their new house from the ground up, and it would be ready to move in by the spring. He even helped with some of the build so that he could proudly say he’d built it with his own hands. Louis was sure to include everything in Harry’s dream house. It has a large kitchen, a fenced-in garden for Clifford, and enough room for their little family to grow. 

Harry graduated in December. Armed with a new Master’s of Business degree, Louis offered him a job as CEO of Tomlinson Textiles. They reopened the Elsgrove factory and turned it into a satellite headquarters so they could both work near home. Together, they have created more jobs and increased the company’s revenue to record highs. It’s on track to be the most successful year on record. 

In January, for their three month anniversary, Harry surprised Louis with a certificate to a tattoo parlour. They each pick out a design and don’t reveal the finished ink until they are done. Harry’s fresh ink is of an elegant rose. Louis’ new tattoo is of a sharp dagger with a gemstone handle. They compliment each other perfectly.

They finally moved into their new home in April. A week after moving in to their new house, Louis proposed to Harry, right there in the kitchen. 

He’d asked the girls beforehand and they’d even helped to pick out the ring. The night of the proposal, the girls excitedly helped him cook a pan of lasagna using Harry’s recipe. It turned out really well, only a little burnt around the edges. The three of them set the table, lit some candles, and eagerly waited for Harry to come home from work. When he arrived, the twins dragged an unsuspecting Harry, still in his coat and shoes into the candlelit kitchen where Louis was waiting on his knee. 

“Harry, I love you. You are so important to me. We’ve been together for six wonderful months. I can’t imagine ever living my life without you and the girls. You three are my family, my home.” He opened the little velvet ring box, displaying a silver band with three sparkling diamonds embedded in the center. “Harry, will you marry me, for real this time?”

Harry burst into happy tears, laughing as he pulled Louis off the ground into a passionate kiss. “Of course. Since, you do make an okay husband, after all.” He snickers and pecks Louis on the lips playfully. “I love you. Now gimme the ring.”

When they’d announced the engagement to their friends, Niall had been way too smug. He bragged that his fake marriage plan had worked perfectly.

Thinking back on all the everything that’s happened in the last year, from the accident and the imaginary marriage, to starting the rest of their lives together, Louis wouldn’t have it any other way. All the deceit, heartache, and pain led him to where he is now. He has a beautiful family, great friends, and a successful career. He is more content than he ever thought possible. 

Louis has had an unbelievable, crazy, perfect year.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! [Here](https://haztobegood.tumblr.com/post/184073536583/making-waves-by-haztobegood-rating-e-word-count) is a rebloggable tumblr post for the fic.


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